Always A Chameleon

It was him
smelling of Old Spice.
It was him
stinking of just smoked cigarettes.
It was him
tasting bitter from cheap ass whiskey.
Saying C’mon little honey,
nobody home right now.
Let your Uncle Cuc
give you some sweet big sugar.
It was him,
It was him again and again.

Filed by notz at 6:40 pm under Poetry
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