i choose to love unlovable men,
my honey dipped passion fruit
dances on the end of a string
and the nectar drips in sheets
to bathe and coat their skins
in warmth.
but it is to them, i fall
irresistible, already loved ones,
and i can only have but a bit
before i'm cut off, left starving
guppy-mouthing the air for just one
taste of milk and another--
they make the greed in a woman impossible to reject.
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