Model

Well aren't you special?
Sitting on your cotton coloured toadstool
With a cigarette in your mouth
Your lips like a puckered strawberry

You're the picture hanging
In the public restroom
Beside the number for Ivana Pee

The question is..
Do you want to be a target or do you want to be yourself?
Many men can whistle at your pretty mask
But maybe they don't see what's behind

You're beautiful under those layers
Of thick makeup and gloss
Rough with fine edges

You draw men's wishes into little hearts
With your sympathetic face and brown eyes
And you sit there fixing my hat
Being careful not to burn the edges

"I could never be a model" you say
And I take a drag from your half finished cigarette
Nicotene is the only model on your cigarette runway

Email the Author ©Ryan Maule

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