Ritual


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Lacquer clogs my early morning mouth.
Spitting curses and acetates, I watch
as her barely-there bottom
 

perches on Kohl-smudged porcelain,
spidery legs dangling from the
toothpaste-tinged rim.
 

Eye-liner daggers drawn,
parrying tongues and tangling elbows
we jostle for space and giggles,
 

jousting in a lotion-cluttered arena,
hairspray mace and mascara lances –
fighting for glass.
 
 

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Filed under Couplets, Free Verse, Poetry

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