The Gypsy Mouth

The gypsy mouth is sharp and endless – too cavernous to not pretend its not worth hiding in for winter and hoping that no straggling sinners come along and try to bother fucking with your source of water. She wants to know if I have sisters – of course, of course – she says for winter make sure that the house is warm. Make sure you are loved and remember the storm so that you’ll grow bored when it’s calm. The gypsy mouth lets her vivid rags embalm her still sensual frame and says my name every time she says anything. She only wants something to fill up that space – the mouth too big for both body and face, the gap that god left with a note in its place: you will never be whole. The gypsy mouth fears for the state of her soul – she packs it with ice and parking lot snow, she asks her friends where all the good people go – but nobody knows. The gypsy mouth smiles but the eyes aren’t involved. We find that the summer clothes that were dissolved in front of each other have all been replaced. The gypsy mouth gypsy moth pretty girl face.


~ by perfectionatrix on October 14, 2011.

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