Grace Black /Senseless Routine/

Senseless Routine

I hold my mouth
open
with each swipe
of blackest-black.
Mascara that makes me feel
like more of a woman
is just as useless
as my open mouth—
but I employ both at any rate.

…………swipe, swipe
…………swallow

Does she breathe
while you hold your breath?
I hold mine because
my mirror fogs if I forget.

…………blink, blink
…………breathe

Do you smell the city
in her hair,
like Autumn
you found in mine?

…………swipe, swipe
…………swallow

Her mouth’s much larger
and I wonder,
do you watch her
apply the ink
to her lashes
and whisper your words,
the same that caused
my blackest-black
to bleed midnight
down my face?

…………swipe . . . blink . . . swallow . . . breathe

Memories that make me feel
like less of a woman
are just as useless
as this war paint—
but I employ both at any rate.

 


 

Grace Black bathes in brevity. She writes poetry and flash fiction and prefers them both like her coffee—dark. When not writing, she edits Ink In Thirds magazine. Find her on Twitter @graceblackink

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s