Your memory parted my lips today for the first time in years,
Like a rouge butterfly escaping the chrysalis.
I almost didn't recognise you after the transformation,
As I gleefully recalled elephant graveyards and polaroid's,
The yellow and pink tones of your wings took effect,
Too late to take back the toxin,
Cheeks glowing red,
not the kind you can cut from a roll of satin,
wrap around your gilded curves,
and pair with a sparking 6 inches.
But the kind that appears through shut eyes,
on the sunniest day of the year.
The kind that Blisters the delicate ivory,
and ruins the silk sheets.
The kind that coats the emerging stainless steel,
and fills those damned cotton swabs.
The kind that tortures my final breath
and drags her from my caving lungs.
