Past in the Bubble

 

A warm smile decided to slide into non-fungible tokens,

half of the field was one of a number, they wanted more,
I’m on a mission to make women, the day messaged,

Hello Sunshine, for nearly a billion dollars, the WoWs had

full lips and strong bows, fluffy party dresses, purple lipstick,
Princess Leia buns, the kind of flat, graphic style seen

automatically reshuffling the time-honored plot point

in the Book of Deeds, a crusading medieval monarch
doles out advice on how to rape snowflake students,

I’ve made a masterpiece, I will be read, he wrote, even

if you, Virgin Goddess of the Hunt, did not want a man,
and never had, the loose hair down her neck made it clear

the labor of self-examination inside and outside ends.