Harlots from Faces by Shaine Greenwood

The harlots in our minds laugh in matching pitch with
our libido, trading sadistic smiles for glasses of wine.
We sift through life with gold out of reach.
Coffee stains my teeth, and the golds leech.
And everyone else’s hair wastes all of the bleach.
On their nails are the stains that teach
our original mechanics.
Our original nothingness in several shades
skin tones nail tones teeth tones hair tones
eye tones. Nothingness is bliss.
Nothingness is everything that we fail to see.
It is everything in the pockets of dust and sluts and calcium
strips on our fingers. We all lack vitamins, exposes the
white; the nothingness’s delight.

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