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Miss Possie MAG
When I watch you
Wrapped in furs
driving, surrounded by the smell of bills
from stale, old, sugar daddies
or when I hear you
clack around in your Loubies
your foot painfully arched
hoping to turn heads
as if you’re worth the whiplash
I sit silently as I watch you and
your plastic nose in the air
that used to be as wide as a tunnel
I laugh at your facade
I laugh
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