Shirley Q. Liquor

Does it feel dangerous to put this on?

Naughty? Sexy, even?

To know that you’re just that much closer to blending in with the shadows?

With the night?

Where all of your deepest, darkest, fears and desires pas de deux.

To just for a brief and shining moment cast off your white man’s burden,

So that you can two step with the same style and ease

You so desperately wish your own marrow produced?

Does it feel good?

When you slick that paint, that powder, that polish across your unfinished canvas

Do you feel complete?

OR is is FREEDOM that you find?

Freedom to shuck and to jive, the weight of human dignity no longer yours to bear.

When you slip into that something “a little more comfortable” can

you finally

Fuck?

Finding communion with the body that’s been running through your mind for centuries.

Before sweat and soap peel back the Black curtain

revealing the haunting abyss of your lonesome reflection again,

does it make you hard to finally own your obsession?

Children,

pity the crushing sadness

of never truly being able to wear this crown and shield,

but only producing pale imitations

in their thirst for freedom.

Instead of the rain causing you to blossom,

It only causes you to wash away.

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