Editing Poetry: Slump Sad Red

I wrote this about someone who was dying, and is probably gone now.

All made up
In pungent red lips
So painted false colour
Slump red mouth
Midnight hole eye sockets
Stare out of torment
War within
All chemical
Heavy lashes
Hang drooping skin and she says
I suffer every day and
Nobody can help me
The chemicals spin in black hole eye sockets and the fat man says
She needs some meat on her bones and the native woman asks
What happened and they
Are all such dimensions in visual perception
Such solid colour stories you can
See back to their beginnings
The first stitch of something like a tapestry
She leaves an empty chair and shuffles away
Like a child building static on a rug
Her name is Iris

via Editing Poetry: Slump Sad Red.


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