Grey Gardens by miss macross
Oh, my mother
[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,
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.