A Missing Person Report

Missing Persons Report
Butterscotch drips from red caramel thick lips.
Dropping on a single track on too voluptuous hips.
On a solid wax, that’s being platinum flip:
Unbeknownst as a forethought; an afterthought,
taste permeates midway velocity accelerates between
gyration, at the speed of 400 mph across the Europe railway.
Which now resembles Cape Hatteras, North Carolina.
Hurricane fracking with extreme force,
When sleep is now suspended; in gravity on impulse.
A stirred martini in a lush lounge coast to coast.
At last, rubbing the genie bottle, Aladdin, you know.
Snuff a sniff: a Ritalin adrenaline, off the cuff;
Vicodin melts like hot running syrup:
 golden rush into miles beyond,
Cold age gold rush articulate silence.
Becomes alternative facts a perpetual norm.
Stoneface unblushing alligator cross crocodile.
Held onto a false narrative sold solely on a
masquerade case that has come for collection,
what she's willing to pay.
And she’s still missing today.