kitsch

fake leather

a poem by Naroé

fake leather and cigarette smoke

caught in my hair

as I sat on the curb

outside 7-Eleven

 

sepia slow motion laugh tracks

childhoods caught behind loud lyrics

taste like cinnamon

and cyanide

 

I thought myself a god

but remain a sheep in wolves’ clothing

artlessly sharpened teeth

catching in the soft pink of my lips