I saw a woman whose teeth were straight like White picket fences Until she looked at her husband- Then they looked like Shattered windows
There is a pretty girl on the Face of the magazine And all I see is my dirty hands turning the page
Little breasts attached to skinny ribs and hungry bellies determined legs; persuasive swing careful hands she stands a greater threat to herself than the cigarette she consumes
Poetry from Pieces of You
Copyright Jewel Kilcher
and Atlantic Recording Group
Page Copyright 1998 Foolish
Games