Golden
Meet Girl
The Girl
She was the dust in the crevices of a windowsill
Built from all of the things that people shed.
From all of things that people outgrew.
Made up of other people’s skin.
But what more is dust than other people’s dead skin?
And so she became stardust, the skin of a thousand stars.
She is explosive. She shines for thousands of years, even after her flame has died out.
Her brightness can travel light years.
Because she is light.
She is the witch that cannot be burned
And so she smiles while her arms are tied with ropes at the stake.
She is the ohm in vibration
She is karma—she is what comes back every single time.
She hates that she comes back every single time.
She bathes herself in gasoline, with a match between her fingers.
She swipes it across her teeth and lights her body on fire.
She was the dust in the crevices of a windowsill
Built from all of the things that people shed.
From all of things that people outgrew.
Made up of other people’s skin.
But what more is dust than other people’s dead skin?
And so she became stardust, the skin of a thousand stars.
She is explosive. She shines for thousands of years, even after her flame has died out.
Her brightness can travel light years.
Because she is light.
She is the witch that cannot be burned
And so she smiles while her arms are tied with ropes at the stake.
She is the ohm in vibration
She is karma—she is what comes back every single time.
She hates that she comes back every single time.
She bathes herself in gasoline, with a match between her fingers.
She swipes it across her teeth and lights her body on fire.