STICKY IN SPIRIT

Emily Iris

in powder room

 I shimmer

   an oil slick rainbow

      glossy nacre

         a wink

           his cloven feet

I bubble in brass

   pout in porcelain 

chalky soap tumbles 

  slippery plastic pouch

ivory like bank mints

  my linty purse relics

I perch for plucking

   a terry cloth cocoon

 bleached blindly

     like new teeth

           smiling behind foam

              grinding into pillow

white like the milkweed

  that spits latex

    and glues child

    soft-bodied

    fresh 

    and feral

   chrysalis cast

to her first 

    and final leaf

Emily Iris is an aspiring nun.