Um..... july?

That’s a thousand dollar smile at least.
The kind that nature didn’t give you.
Nope.
Your mother paid someone for that sly grin you wear.

I see it when ypu walk in the room and look at me.
I see your teeth, beautiful white and even.
Your mother paid someone a lot of money so that you could shine them at me.

I remember how she told me you were a slut.
Talking, reading your poem out loud.
Mouth shaping words shaping pictures.
I remember her saying you use your art or music or poetry to get into girls pants.
You keep making eye contact. I keep observing and acting unimpressed.