White Sparks and Luscious Lips

Leaning on the rigid rod

Creeping seductively to the ground.

A white spark taunts from the luscious lips.

Reaching the bottom yet again

All she has found

Is that nothing fits.

We refuse to see beyond the flash of flesh

To the girl who hides beneath.

We see a white spark and luscious lips

But not a hurt heart and brimming brain

As we search for a thrill so brief

That nothing fits.

Let her be herself

Not who we make her out.

We see the taunt of white sparks and luscious lips

Not the helpless girl who scraped along

Scared to whisper, talk or shout

Who feels she never fits.