She smiles like a tequila sunrise, all

pretty colors and sweet grenadine

Ruby lips curve so innocently, drop sugared lies to hide the bitterness

always burning her throat

She'll tell you she's ordinary, a

girl next door,

simple as orange juice for breakfast,

and she'll believe it.

And she'll dance with you just cause

she can

Walk away when she gets bored

Black high-heels click clicking like

ice in an empty glass

(she'll never see you hit the floor)

She only sees the beauty of the white-and-shining pure

and hers is a different kind

of lovely, vivid and loud and

fragile as a flame

You are broken to want her,

she thinks, and thinks

nothing of it when you shatter

as she goes.