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Grey Gardens by miss macross


Oh, my mother


[rolls hands]


you know,


[pauses to smoke]


she used to tell me,


“Darling, when the sea foam crests,

the ocean waves are made of diamonds.

Each atom will scrape off your skin,

but not in a good way.”


But I still blend sea salt milkshakes,

still massage vegetable oil


[pauses to caress]


into my cabaret calves,

still slough off the ugly parts,


[smiles sadly]


revealing the true creature in me.



 


miss macross (she/her) is a multi-genre writer who enjoys watching mecha anime and taking naps. She worships the moon because she is both a lunar witch and That Poet. Find her on Twitter @missmacross.

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