Cheap shots
by: Juansky
She wakes every morning
Like a butterfly
But at the end of the day
She cannot fly
She feeds the birds
But there is no desire
On thinking with wisdom
What she did last night
The tongue of her friend
Still tastes in her mouth
The scent of a wolf
Impregnates her blouse
She answers no phone calls
And she is not relaxed
The flashbacks torment her
While the water runs down
