Another passed me today wearing them
An infinite string of sanitary orbs in perfect placement.
Pearly delights disguised as order.
I imagine there is something about their iridescence that feels clean
Like the bathtub
And she wears them with delight quietly passing them over her teeth
Believing the tedium is easier to endure
But it’s to meager a crumb
they lack substance
And taste like grief.
I hope There will come a time when she considers spitting them out.
Only when your mouth is free of fake
can your lips can know the flavor of lucid.

 written by malai carrara