memento #10/ a recollection

a doll’d plastic wan, bleary retina
with the joy tattooed inside,
wide open eyes.

“stop seeing red”, you said.

“right”.

you can’t always unsee
a disposable truth of the satin kevlar
on her breasts afterwards.

while the auto pilot of the self-indulgence
is messing the air traffic up.

(a DejaVu)

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