- Vol. 05
- Chapter 08
Attention, or, Carats are Bad for your Eyes
You pour over me. My skin is gasping for air without the gills to breathe your gold paint.
My nose is tasting varnish; caustic dollops of lead scent are sliding down my throat.
My lips are mute speed-bumps for the 24-carat mucus stream, such pretty decorations.
My eyes are gazing at gold-glazed lids but can’t see how they glimmer.
My head tilt sets wet paint drooling, a tongue down my ear canal. My thoughts are turned to gold, solid and unchanging. I hold my pose, it holds me in place.