Animals: “MARINATED” by Julia Kinu
MARINATED
there was a super moon
driving up to your house
but I still want to keep
my porch lights on in case
someone tries to kick me in tonight.
the rabbit’s side profile shines
on the gaping pores on my right cheek.
I’m screaming to the rabbit, asking
why my craters can’t be filled
or made
into something desirable.
a foundation that I don’t wear
that makes my face lighter than the rest of my body.
olive is a weird way to describe skin tone.
I reek of vinegar and touch like rice paper in between the thumb and pointer.
but bleach burned when I cleaned out the sinks the other day
and bleach burned when it seeped through my clothes
and bleach burned when it rubbed against my chest
and bleach burned when it rubbed against my body.
what else could I expect of it though
an infatuation with the idea of my skin
and how malleable the idea and the concept can be
there are times I stretch to see how far I can truly go.
it’s no longer a super moon
I’m still screaming
no longer for the holes in my face
or the roses embedded in my cheeks
I’m just screaming.