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!