Mia White | Beauty Bucks’ Throne Room
Beauty Bucks’ Throne Room
Marmalade stucco with doily crowns.
An accordion divider that finally shutters
after a long, convincing kiss
from the tip of my boot.
A soap opera plays on the big box
outside. Tinny declarations of love
leak in through gossamer corners.
My quiet skin is whitened
by a chain of lights above the sink
that wink and stutter as they please.
The air is wet and flammable,
a bouquet of hairspray that sleeves my arms.
When I stretch I’m touching opposite walls.
Taped right to that coppery paint,
laminate slick in the dim light, a sign:
If you sprinkle when you tinkle
please be neat and wipe the seat!