Those that bite beneath a mask of beauty
Illustrated by Ella Clayton.Where do these lines lead?
Us muses are dreamless,
Sampling the sapphire skies with our teeth
Before the taste sinks in.
Questions are fruitless, filling bottles
Riddled with holes—answers seep out
And stain the sheets.
Where do these lines lead?
Where I walk my feet burn into
The cherry concrete, hot and black
In the yellow evening breeze.
I crave the universe. The poker-faced people
With zaffre eyes and bulbous lips stare:
A falsity, a glamourised reflection
That shapes words into nonsense.
Where do these lines lead us?
I grow my lashes with Vaseline,
They are not long enough to be beautiful.
We swim in artificial sleep.