Pink

She glanced at herself, and winced. Trailing her fingers across the mauve smudge of battered dreams, right above her cheekbone. She reached out for her second skin, lying packaged in a pale pink tube. It’s concealed. – Vijetha Jessica Advertisements

Take One

How many times have you wrapped your lies In shards of glass and fancy bow ties? Then enveloped in glitter, you hid your pain; And mixed your tears with drops of champagne. Your bones weakened in the frozen starlight, Your veins tightened, mocking your fright. And as beauty comes, in vain it goes; Often pompous,…

The Clash of Cultures?

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The Whore

Night as silent as she Occasional sounds, like the Cries that escape from her, helplessly She sits and waits For work, to serve her purpose Waits to be bait Door opens, her breath stops “Your cheapest one, please” The transaction is made; instant and prompt He appears in front of her, Bulging, impatient She weeps…