her name's Olivia: a dirty-eyed redhead
who will their thrills in their own bed
she wakes up laughing every day
at the boys who keep their hands at bay
when she brings her hips about
and uses her tongue as a whip inside her mouth
—her smile a sign of distress
for the boys who wish to caress
her pale thin thighs, her empty womb
that makes a thousand boys bay at the moon.
her breast remain pure, untouched by a hand—
she refuses to feed the boys, make him a man.
her name is Olivia: a dirty-eyed redhead
who lies and simply smiles alone in her bed.
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