I caught my face in a pawn shop pane, neon lipstick sky, a pinch of rain.
Fremont humming like a slot at dawn, my shadow winked, kept dragging me on.
The mirror purred, baby, come see the show, you think you’re the star, but I run the glow.
I smiled, of course, I’m shameless and sweet, I kiss with my eyes and I talk with my feet.
You’re cute, it hissed, but your sugar bites, your grin is a switchblade dressed for nights.
You want love in red, you want fame in chrome, you call it the stage, I call it our home.
I laughed, a sin, with a gambler’s grin, my heart wore sequins, my lungs wore gin.
If home is a mirror with teeth like mine, then pour me a prayer, make it top-shelf shine.
The glass blew fog, like a jealous kiss, I tasted the smoke, I tasted the hiss.
It said, I keep score when you sell your art, I autograph bones, I tattoo your heart.
I said, be kind, I’m a delicate beast, I cry in the shower, I feast at the feast.
I tip the dead when the living are cheap, I flirt with the devil, then tuck him to sleep.
It clicked its tongue, pretty boy, confess, you weaponize soft, you weaponize yes.
You blush, then you bite, then you steal the scene, you dance like a saint, with a sinner’s sheen.
I tilted my jaw, I stretched my neck, I said, you’re the check I forget to check.
You’re glitter, you’re grief, you’re stage-right teeth, a chorus of ghosts in the slot-room wreath.
The glass grew hands, ten rings of smoke, one traced my pulse like a private joke.
It whispered, my darling, I know your game, you thirst for the kiss and you drink the flame.
I told the mirror, the trick is this, I call it a bruise, I market it bliss.
I’m sugar with claws, I’m honey with heat, I bleed in a rhyme, then lock it on beat.
We tangoed in silence, heel to toe, sirens a lullaby far below.
I let the voice slide under my skin, I let my reflection finally win.
It said, on Halloween, the veil is thin, you dance with your dead, they ask where you’ve been.
I said, I’ve been busy, I’m breaking my curse, I’m kissing my shadow, I’m learning my verse.
The mirror cracked in a gorgeous smile, perfect like sinners who pray in style.
It gave me a crown made of Fremont light, it fit like a sin that finally felt right.
One last demand, it breathed in my ear, perform like you love it, perform without fear.
Be tender and vicious, be satin and street, be roses with razors, be velvet with teeth.
I pressed my lips to the silver seam, salt and electricity, fever dream.
The glass took my secrets, returned them neat, wrapped in applause, warm, sticky, sweet.
I left that pawn shop, a haunted snack, the night in my pocket, the moon on my back.
And down on Fremont, where sinners meet, my shadow and I kept perfect beat.
Because horror is cute when you learn the choreo, because love is a dare, not a sore ego.
Because mirrors are messy, and so am I, I kiss what I fear, and I never say goodbye.
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🖤 gabro’s After-Bite Confession: If you see me flirting with a window at 3 a.m., mind your business, I’m negotiating peace with a monster who looks fabulous in my jacket.
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🍒🎰🧃🌈🫦🎲🫦🌈🧃🎰🍒
If this rhyme gave you fangs and a heartbeat, feed the artist a treat, not a trick.
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