hollywood pearls

grin reaper.

i’m sorry your smile

makes my stomach twist.

your lips curl back

on hollywood pearls,

and still, I see canines.

–

lipstick stains.

you said you liked that smear of red

beneath my nose,

liked that you put it there 

and that people know

you danced with the pilgrims,

and they let you in,

that you tore their skirts

on the way out

and in.

lately, i wonder – 

with bloodied goggles or else rosy eyes,

with wine-stained flesh

and ruby highs-

do I feel owned

or alive?

–

madonna.

i watch my reflection

in the chapel windows –

double-checking.

• beauty
• love poems
• poetry