#014/100 Alloy

he's an alloy of blades & a cigarette between his fingers
a scarred wrist on his knee. she has shaved her legs &
kept them closed all night--if they touched her pussy
would turn into orange peel, torn, scruffy & dried.
nothing can save his inferior breed of manly charm--
trembles in glow, slashed words at every turn of
her face: 'you're the exact opposite of what i desire.'
the iron fails to brand, to torture her into submission--
his hope, flung open, crushed like dirt. not her body
like a red feather. she will not sink. so low.

Inspired by Day 13, Day 12 & Day 06, photography by John Timmons.