i only heard the words i wanted to sitting across from you at papacito’s (on 999 manhattan ave between green st and huron st) – m4w – 26 (williamsburg, borough of lost boys)

 *

-an idea, until she wasn’t-

*by someone showing a wry smile

to a fair truth*

(frankie leone, just a man)

 *

*she’s fucked up*

 *

*like rapaccini’s daughter

the frankenstein monster

or a sweet young thing hustling a hustler

smiling hearts disfigured

and winking souls into hospice

 -

while those

garnet lips and robin’s egg eyes

are worshipped

 -

they hallow pride

and molotov dignity

-

namely mine

-

while i ask for every orgasmic twist

of her beautiful switchblade

she’s yelling truth

 -

and i’m choosing

to hear whispers

of my favorite lies*

*

*i’m fucked up.*

 *

About Frankie Leone

Tries to write a version of his truth. Also a nightlife worker. Born at Beth Israel Hospital on 1st Ave between 16th and 17th St on December 15, 1984. Lives in Brooklyn. Bears a few scars, tattoos, and regrets. View all posts by Frankie Leone

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