infected nose hole

a bubble on the brink of a cheepass tacky blue diamante, skin not sure what to do with itself: cells divide and bacteria rage, and all the time that diamante, light blue, nestles in there. im here to stay. its breezin along, cavin’ in to membranous squalor. the flesh  grows angry, then calms, rages, settles, and rises again. she pokes it with a hot stick laden with salt, like she’s stabbin’ at a vampire.  a cheat to pure skin, the blood bubble blisters, its sleazy greasy soul growing like a cancer. still the diamante, blue and sparkly, on its cheapass metal, stubborn in the hole, like a sick chihuahua in a hookers purse, sparkles. im the stars it insists, im paris at the hilton. the skin jokes alongside – it is a jolly good sport, and a wise old soul, but its growing tired of this game, it wants its balance back. why you stick this pin in me it asks, im skin enough. the blue is bold and wants to survive like the sky. but the skin is old and knows its style.

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