harlot’s heart

poetry by D.e.e.L

is there any truth to your lies?
a half eaten heart rots
half loved harlot loves full hearted

but she cries

tortured soul sings breaking
a story of fiction serves as life
her lips were red, wet, pursed

grab a beer and look upon the stage
a cigar and a shot of bourbon
as the harlot struts

she is a lie
at home she reads wilde
but here she is bukowski’s tongue

come sit an hour or two and dream
drench your day in fantasy
as if you deserve it

sit an hour or two
a day or three
and rot

like the harlot’s heart
you are nothing but a lie

a sip to the night
upon the written tongue
a shot of tears and rum

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