The Wild Girls

The wild girls run

With Hellhound hearts

and pretty boys who did not stand a chance

Whiplash kisses

and mistakes they held like trophies

All the things you’d say to make them stay

The come-to-bed eyes, the bottles of gin, used matches

an Intoxication anomaly but

There is fire in you yet, your mother said,

Do you remember? That guilt you never wore again.

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