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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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