I woke up with a rash from
lounging around in cerulean waters
of hidden beaches
Couldn’t resist the urge to keep attacking
the same sections of my legs
and it erupted patches that reminded me
of stepping stones in lake pastorals
Monet’s interpretation of sweltering hives
Even with the temporary relief of calamine lotion
the impulse to grate my nails against
those volcanic meadows remained
fervent
Scratch Scratch Scratch Scratch Scratch Scratch
I fixated on relief from attacking those needy spots
Excoriating layers of skin until I saw glittering tourmalines
inlaid within my tibias like mother of pearl in ebony
Pricking through my follicles
were the heads of emerging scales
studding the entirety of my legs
like beads on organza
They gleamed beneath the intrusive sunlight
that peered through curtain gaps
Numerous layers of nacre
erupting in waves
I dragged my fingers up and down the
pink opal deposits that were becoming
a permanent fixture along the bottom half of my body
The more I caressed the rough texture
the more natural it felt
Filaments split open along the sides of my ribcage
I was becoming something else
Sprouting Sprouting Sprouting Sprouting Sprouting Sprouting
~~~
Honey Angel works an office job during the day and writes feverishly at night. She's interested in all matters involving what's hidden beneath the pristine. She loves a sweet treat, hanging out with stray cats, and watching psychological thrillers. Her current favourite album is To Bring You My Love by PJ Harvey. She's been published in Redrosethorns Journal.
