#eyeshadow
~
*Imagine a box
In shadow
Of utter regalia
Iris, dressed as a waterfall
She comes scattered
Imagine an eyelid illusionist
Praying for more palettes
Enters steelbook cathedrals
To a ministry of colour
For the street outside
Cannot offer as
Interesting a hue
As those fascinating within
The pigment of her imagination
It's compelling artistry
Like oil on canvas
A slight of hand
Smoke and mirrors
Her skilled fingers
Kohl mining
For soft medley
And the new liminality
Above the spectator's eye*
~
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 1:02 PM UTC
John David Washington Ave.
Suspended.
It tastes like violet.
Cloudy.
Renaissance and headed towards.
The Maxine.
Mountain only spitting globes.
Of parted jacket.
Faulty.
Leaving electric glass behind.
Though it's eyes.
No weaving of inner fuchsia.
Collected, only slept in yesterday's clothes.
Garrett Johnson.
Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 4:47 PM UTC
my mother sees purple
because purple lives on her flesh.
she has stains
from shoulders down.
they scatter across her back
like pressed grapes.
the juice squeezed out of them
to create a rich man’s wine.
they wrap around her legs
like grape vines.
pulling her closer to the ground
with each step.
she hides them.
when men approach her
she says
“quiero que me ames.
my body has rejected me
and even in the womb
i was mutating.”
the men love her face.
she is a woman who does not age.
they say to her
“tu eres morada.
to love yourself you must
accept the color.”
so they have all added
new shades of purple
to her body.
i think that is why
my favorite eyeshadow color
is purple.
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
1. seeing my mother cry
2. people that can't let go
3. anxiety
4. lies
5. thinking about the people I've lost
6. unblended eyeshadow
7. careless people
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC