Kristin Garth

Then She Was A Real Girl Because It Hurt

Nourishment is through your ceramic lips.
Pink nipple delivers various amounts 
of their potion composed of powders — bone mixed 
with dry milk.  Fuck dolls can’t taste it, spit it out 
pulverized skeleton, a draught of one 
of their own.  If you swallow its marrow,
lost pheromones, you grow vulnerable bones,
beneath this chipped anatomy (they threw
themselves onto without pity.) Shatter a
porcelain pelvis though you can’t even cry. 
Patching kintsugi cunt with gold mica 
will not bring a real tear to glass eyes.
Afters month of bone milk, you even grow skin.
Peeled porcelain punctures before they begin.

Leave a comment