Nicole Zeien | Kiss of Truth

A pungent moss smell engulfs

narrow room, as bachelors line

against peeling walls. Bulging guts

and eyes, they grumble deeply.

I consider each distinctive color

mixture, stature, markings. Finally

I stretch out my trembling, freshly

polished hand and choose the slender

greyed lover.  Sealed eyes, taking

a deep breath, I pucker glossed lips,

bringing them closer to the bugged-

breath winner; hopeful to behold

my prince, when they open again.

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