prompt: rebuild

a skinny girl

she had no bones.

No frame

(of reference)

to support system’s

go

No cage for the

animal without,

and disconnected

the only recourse

was to put meet on

shy body

a sub’ stance

& joint venture

that

camouflaged lack

of back.

 
some people go silver

at twilight,

and some go grey,

and practically no one

goes golden

at dusk

–until they dye—

(an OTC crapshoot you buy yourself)

but there is a choice right at sunset if you strain your I’s,

and factor daily specials

into your

Happy Hour selection.

to order—paradoxically—the collapsing color of it all

a Bud Light, I love you, man, moment,

that gleams glamorously in the gloam

–well, as glamorous as ail gets–

or Old-Fashioned bucket heavy hit with Bitters that fades without polish

–twinkle*twinkles 2–

just taupe to bottom

of a glass half-empty

when silver service is preferred in

the finer houses all along

–the watchtower, for example–

where refills

happen without prompting,

and no one ever really dyes.

it was a nice gout-fit

–made of the stretchy kind of material

(obviously)

without a lot of give

~even sew~

a pain suit cut

off at the knees

–bursa through & through —

with matching shirred

(but you gathered that)

top one-off on account’a

irregularities

uneven darts

and wurst seems…

fitting uneven heart its

true

especially on the one side

‘corset made it shapely, though,

and brand

spanking

knew.

I revised my work,

biting nails, here,

poking “i’s” out—

there

un’ringing hands,

and buzzing ears

–how you know they whisper—

bided time and

read penned lines

with feeling,

deleting in between

–almost 2 years–

(or is it almost 20?)

of tears, ink, and coldest

sweat–

since it added little

to the story.