where grey goose flows like water

sitting at LAX she is at a crossroads

Los Angeles. Lost Angels.

glitz, glamour, sun, surf,
big boobs,
small dogs,
fast cars,
fast women,
grey goose, angels, and champagne.

she has learned none of it
none of it
is real

what is this extreme severing
like a face lift without anesthesia
liposuction gone wrong

just a dark, dark shadow
please let her be white and blonde, tall and important

US Weekly worthy. Vain at Vanity Fair.
high heels, sunglasses, necklaces so perfect
perfect, perfect dolls
rock stars like living candy bars

tears welling up, waiting for the plane,
she looks to the end of the flat, paved, world
roads with scholars
doing magic tricks
here in the flicks
fake flickering wicks of ecstasy

a young woman’s lost and found
a carousel of sorts
playgrounds for her pains

where grey goose flows like water, like lava,
the purifier, for the pain inside of her

flying her far, far away

All written content © 2012-2013 Helenna Santos-Levy

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