Yesterday, methodically, I opened up
a black trash bag
and emptied my life into the void of it
a grin thickening my lips.
I was as drunk on this carthasis
as a clown on laughs.
I won't powder my face, I won't
colour my mouth.
I won't shave my pussy, I won't
cut my hair.
I won't wear clothes.
I wear rope now. It is my colour.
It is my entire attire
and who needs makeup
when you hold my face?
Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
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