Have I “popped” for you?
Does the burnt blood in my cheeks
At least rival that peach?
Is my coat too mottled
For that glossy black bottle?
Is my white wrist bright enough?

I own I lie and I cheat children
My mind is null but rotten
My bones they stoned
Of course, I show no remorse
Still, in this shell of blotted stuff
Do my depths “pop” enough?

Do you do for me? Well,
I could take or leave you
I’ve places to be
You’re a case, not a plea
But I’ll concede
That’s not me

Did I “pop”?

 Written 20/05/2025