Golden

Meet Girl

The Girl
She is the dust in the crevices of a windowsill
Made up of other people’s skin.
But what more is dust than other people’s dead skin?

She is stardust, the skin of a thousand stars,
Star residue
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 a witch that cannot be burned
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.