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Chemistry means nothing.

She's divine, and her
eyes were created by
stars and her touch
might as well have sculpt
your body because
she knows the routes,
the injunctions
the chemistry to
make your beakers break

She's out and out, like unprinted
film and freshly turfed
lawns, and her eyes reminded you
of quasars, and they're
just as perfect
and she's
got lips
that just
know the routes
and injunctions
and touches you
as if she was
tracing the back
of her hand
but
she's has
no essence
and that
makes her
a
   c
     u
        n
            t
Written by Mitochondrial (Will lou White)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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