as you/no matter all the
whitewashing you do. The indelible
stain that lies under her chest

cannot be wiped clean from
her heaving red
breast. The lipstick smiles

and lilac perfume makes us grow
faint as she crosses the room. You
can’t gloss over the filthy mess

that lies under the stitching of her
lacey white dress. She can cover the
cake in satin gold cream but slice through

a piece and you'll see the gleam
only shines on the outside. The middle
is riddled with mold that crumbles

and can't hold together/overstuffed like
the drawers in her dresser. I'd not fare
to go near and undress her.