in her eyes i can see the word girl glint off her
surfaces, although her mouth tongues boy
as she gives me that smile, knowing and
yet closed with visible longing for cessation
of deception, while father screams in the
living room not to be like 'those faggots.'
she winds the long hair up, watches the mirror parade
the whispers of dyke, and attempts to find a
male to take to prom to hide her dirty little
(girlfriend) secret.
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