Whitest cloudy heaven
Of a bubble bath
And a

Red notebook
Open to a page
Of neat pen scribbles
In a pale hand

Of black decay
Polished fingernails

Blots upon a fine skin
Pockmarks and
Beauty spots

Bloody knuckles
Rubber choker
Pearl earrings
So gracile

A sublime siren
Spoken so softly
That I’ll probably
Have forgotten
What’s said
Long before her song
Is over

This amnesia
To become
Black polish
And inks those
Willowy fingertips

Into this

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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