Fetal Chemical

Turpentine relaxants
cool off heated breath
that warms the inner-lining
of knowing how and
when to communicate,
and what or what not
to say.

Red-coral smiling
clouds up as an illusion
in opposing eyes.
Like a mirror to outer beauty,
lies are much more
attractive than speaking truth
that hardens and sprouts turmoil
in the right back corner of the mind.

With a fetal chemical peel,
she sits with her rattle-thumb
and beauty scars from
a guilt abortion.
Baby-bone pink barrettes
sealing pale lips,
she's impregnated by
the misspoken truths in her head.