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I am taking an
unended bath.

This week’s popular clothes,
my imitation of life pearls,
& never absent pink
new to look worn
slippers hanging on
by harsh gravity
are submerged in the
season’s changing
waters—

multi-monochromatic
rose madder bulbs to
look like microscope
enlarged bubbles
during winter,

seashell bath salts
for the hell-hot
months that never burn
on my hard skin,

plastic stems conversing
with my plasticine
with cut fabric head
petals as a shoddy tribute
to the building up
season.

Now I am nakedly
clothed with my
chipped nose & stiff
limbs unable to move
without the uncaring
hands that appear
without warning to
rough me up into new
outfits but always left
in the same weakened
position.

My tub is emptied—

it is darker earlier
as the outside people
prepare for the bright
blue time by watching
the colors strip apart

& telling themselves it
is beautiful.

I cannot see
myself,

only the ladder strung
next to me as a
promise never to be
kept,

a thick wood door
behind my paralysis-
bound neck—

I can sense the wasted
opportunity resting
there—

just close enough to mock
my immobility.

My feet still bear
their pink weights,
my hair in immaculate,

if not slightly rotting,

condition,
my eyes with the grooves
cut against the iris
to mimic light reflection

are still staring at the
same frozen ever-
changing vignette.

The bicycle outside
my window was
stolen last week—

missing posters pulse
a bubblegum photograph
on every street corner—

I can only wish someone
would break down my
glass wall & make a
run with my body.

Even if my arm detached
& fell into the broken
shimmer, never to be
replaced, I wouldn’t mind

or complain—

my mouth in its hand-
perfected pout has
never been able to
open. or voice.
i've been obsessed with
this mannequin for years
but she randomly
disappeared one day
& i haven't seen her since.
the bicycle was stolen
this year, after she'd gone missing,
but i thought it would be nice
to include that.

this is from her perspective.
i'm finding i do better work
when i'm emotionally removed
from the subject matter.
something to think about.

critique if you like.
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Submitted on
June 17, 2014
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