delicate rituals of analytical loathing:
i unravel myself.

pick away shattered shimmer from cheek
wipe black magic with soiled cloth
rip undeservedly piece by piece
torture inconsistency over inches or miles of skin.

reconstructed with artificial spice,
i am a new girl, i am new features,
i am the new model.

my eyes open under saltwater
and so i sink or soak in seas of otherness
but i am fresh, like forming flesh
if flesh were sequined and stitched.

roll, bite, pick up habits, dirt, memory, fight
just to affix and roam on
i must be a big O, a filthy lost prince,
a katamari girl, never pleasin' no one.