i'm enamoured with his cruelty,

bold in the laughter at my pain:

he calls me beautiful and i

blush in the knowledge that

this has happened a million times

and i'm just a girl to him.

-

i'm enamoured with his stares,

watching my breasts heave:

underneath the baggy t-shirt and i

know it's the kind of beauty

that only comes when you

grow up in the city we call ours.

-

i'm enamoured with the way he looks down,

down on me because i'm smaller:

hair tossed in the wind and i

glance up in the way that'll

catch his attention and i know

that this has happened a million times

in this city of ours but somehow

it seems beautiful.