Consider me

The Cryptic
Keeper.

Search for My

thinly veiled
Concubine
Of syllabic
Silhouettes.

In Any
Language,

they Lounge
The same-

-Just here.

—-

Men love
to tinker
With you

As if
You’re
Not there.

They want
You to
Be there
For it;

Displaying
No part
Of you
For Yourself.

—-

Breaking
Master peace,

Bastardize
The beauty
To Become
The Beast.

Claw and
Starve her
Insatiable.

—-

When
Absent

They Conjure
A mimic;

Supposing
[And posing]

your replica

To absolute
Finish.

——

There is
No safety
On the paths

Of the
Mouths,
Eyes,
Or ears

Of men

Carved
Into being(s).

—-

The
wreckage

Seeps
and Spoils

All Things
Once
Beautiful.

————————

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