“Those who aren’t used to luxury,”
she said, waving her fan,
“once won, act as if they’re manner-born”
this pristine heiress is no friend
to any single one —
yet her metallic precision
shatters-me
So when she inevitably
ends flayed on my table
and her silk becomes
my doily /
I have to wonder
what spice to ripen her broth
or should I just guess
the flavor
is bitter?
–LM