I rake leaves and contemplate the selling of beauty as a capitalist ideal: boxed and essenced, smelling sweet. Meanwhile, the western sky rips apricot horizons from blue. Another day ends in brutal waxing. No, hun. That's just a sunset.
I read Misky’s lovely Sevenling and thought… that’s a form I could try! I hope you don’t mind, Misky!
Of course I don’t mind! That’s a lovely sevenling you’ve written. “selling of beauty as a capitalist ideal” – love that!
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Thanks! It was inspired by a shop I saw today and the advertising outside it.
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You realise you’re just making space for more leaves, don’t you?
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Lol Yup. It becomes clear almost instantly (pitter patter). Sort of like waxing just makes way for more hair…
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At least not as painful
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ya. I prefer the leaves
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Fantastic! I really like,
Meanwhile, the western sky rips
apricot horizons from blue.
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Thanks, Bob! 😊
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Way to tear off that bandaid Brazilian, style. Hope the world took its Tylenol beforehand. 😂😂
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lol
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Ha ha! Brilliant 😀 Love the wordplay and the way it ends. It also got me thinking how waxing means removal (as in hair) but also thickening (as in moon)? And then waxing lyrical. It’s such a loaded word really. Love the image too 🙂
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