Mockery

after the punctures
the knives await,
fresh wounds magnetizing
the tender tips of the blade.
a smile to do the mischievous trick;
a wink to cover up
the advent of a eulogy.
she stammers in the only art
she knows, dabbles in
the petty facade of whoredom
she doesn't welcome,
while tears fade to black
and the canvas smudged
in peach,
intuition defied.