Her
the devil is calling
a cigarette you call it
as the airplane flying the sky
to sit ten is late waiting
surprise soon to be twenty or more bullshit
flying the sky to reach the tarmac
of evil with a glass of lemon juice in the morning
shame on you my dear you are acid
fancy plates from past century
I drink your wines with crystal glass
and make a madeira of your life
as I pet a cat my dog in need of a pee
no crave here to call your name
shame on you with your botox
to look sublime as I live a life
of desire and glee
as I in a box chose not to fly your plane
but eyes opened for the reveal I count on you
to make it right my dear devil.
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