She was a swift one, graceful like a cheetah in custom high heels
you couldn’t take your eyes off her,
in her gaze men found demise in their lust to own her as a trophy
yet they were left petrified permanently piqued
medusa tinged brazilian hair flowing way below her nape accentuated her shapely hillcut road curves
over the edge with a smile she drove men
but they crawled back pleading with gifted apples of a different sort than the one Eve knew..
you see, Andromina was a bad bitch.
love poems or deep lyrics had no sway with her
neither did gene passed fine features
she wasn’t that sentimental
sexiness was the sound of that green paper, handsome was the revving of that shiny new G Wagon and funny but smart she found that slick crib with the swimming pool.
this was her religion.
.. damned she was to the temporary bliss it brought her and blind to the world
she deafened her ears to the whisperings, blotted out the prejudiced looks and numbed her heart to the memories she deleted
.. she convinced herself daily she was a good one and only the Most High could judge her.
… and not anyone.
In that hope she laid her bet.
she hoped to wear white some day and walk down the aisle to be ringed by some mystery gent who either forgave her past or knew nothing about it…
for this she made crusades her second home and absolvitory social media religious posts a daily dose…
her faith in miracles was unchallenged
… sadly it wasn’t to be
for in her prime, her dreams were cut short
not by the viral infections of her night escapades or some moral backlash for her sins
but by a drunk taxi driver who after a rowdy evening of fermented cocktail of kosovo and stanky kush slept on the wheel and ran her down to her permanent slumber
… and the world did not stop.
It was just another dead human.