Bad Lady

I hate hiding in kitchens;
I hate kitsch: she is hot.
Looks in my eye, pries
for a soul: I think Souldigger! I think
about internships she mentions
money, vacations, smokes
two smokes to my drag,
teases smoke from an eye,
winks, whips hair, eyes soul;
I hate that kitsch. Soul’s fine though.
Might get cancer though. I snigger.