I look at pictures of myself sometimes
And I can see my skeleton
Skull all hard
Around the eyes
Where they sink in a little
These pictures are rare but becoming less so
It’s blue around the eye sockets
Like a mortal gleam
I can be plain-spoken when I have to be
When I see the network of capillaries mewling close to the surface
Over time there will be less and less youthful pictures of me until I perish
Lana Del Rey says: “I love the look of girls with red lips and shiny skin”
She says this after she poses for British GQ naked
Her butt smashed up against a floor surface
Hugging her knees to her chest
Covering her vagina and stomach
I love this woman I think
But she must be lying right now
This cannot be what she is thinking
Sitting there looking just like how my brain thinks
Being my brain twin on the magazine
Covering the exact right two things
Because even though as a person I’m not
As a woman I’m just so
I’m confused because if I was in that white room
And I put on red lips and shiny skin I would feel wrong
Foody and gleaming
Roasting
Creamy
Uncomfortably warm
I would want to minimize the surface
Like she’s doing
Looking fucked up in a photo is hard
Under the skin
The soft skin I allegedly own
That is disappearing from me every day
That is a temporary boon for me and my loves to touch
Is a skeleton
Under the vagina and guts
Even in a Lana
A skeleton hides
Ready to grin in your face
Ready to fuck your shit up like a nightmare
Ready to be a pile of dead bones in the moonlight
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