A drunken selfie in lingerie
beer in one hand, phone in the other,
thigh high stockings ‘n garters,
pale cream skin,
crafted for presentation.
there’s dust on the windowsill,
and the runners have that paint-cracked age to ’em
discarded notebooks ‘n pencils ‘n laundry all over the floor.
“self love” you tag it and post for the world to see,
and the juxtaposition isn’t unfamiliar to me.
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If you would like to be the subject of a portraits of strangers poem, submit a picture of yourself here, plus any information you want me to have.
