Face Value

over there
is a stranded girl
stuck with her
worthless means of
caged brew
and fake curls

looking back and forth
at her
splendidly lit fruit
the graffiti
on her hand proposes
her surface
is her roots

there’s a lot of
filtered noise
in her
ears
but there’s only
so much
she can discern
and hear

but all of this
the point is not

the point is that
she’s got
what you desire
a lot

your frivolous dreams
keep you
in a haze
but you just
can’t have it the
same way

can you?

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