Bespectacled Aphrodite

Woman with glasses

She was the queen, the highness
My lust-compass and my pupil-dilator
As her wisdom glasses shatter
Against the cascading waterfalls of my empowered lust
And as spray-mists rise through blood tributaries
You cannot help but wonder whether the source
Of her beauty lavished in cheek bones
And jaw-angles, perfect skin and springtime lips
Could be dwarfed by paltry titanium and sheer glass
When the source of her feigned intelligence
– Eye-candy of refraction lenses –
Becomes a potent aphrodisiac and a malignant blue pill
To a self-confessed sapiosexual
After all glasses are not merely fog-lights
They too fog the misty heart


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