She's sculpted artificially like a Barbie,
So I scribbled on her face with a sharpie,
She smiled and asked "How do I look?",
I couldn't focus, her face became a book,
I'd wrote too much, got carried away,
"I'm not so sure tonight, I couldn't say",
She leans back more and laughs,
I move closer to read my paragraphs,
Our lips touch together, she closes her eyes,
Too keep them shut I grab her thighs,
We're making out now, but my eyes are open,
I'm pushing forward, getting close in,
Then she stops and shoots me back,
I hit my head off a mirror with a whack,
A shard of glass falls before my sight,
I see paragraphs on my face, within the light.

© ManWithoutSelf