Pink Girls

The world eats pink girls for lunch...
         cuts them up into heart-shaped
                                           bite-sized
                                             pieces.
Pink girls are best consumed while still raw
         with nerve endings close to the surface...
               and salted with their own tears.

The world ties up pink girls in tight corsets
                       and lets them breathe,
                             just a little...
                       binds their feet, so they walk
                             not too far...
                       cuts out their clits, so they feel
                             not so much.

Pink girls are the soft center of hard candy, exposed...
       their mouths filled with honey promises---
                 sweet, like nothing real.

While plump pink cherubs fill the sky with roses,
         pink girls take moonlight baths in rose water...
                                           thinking silk...
                             and Victoria's secret, worth dying for.

Pink girls are pierced forever too soon...
       given away by passionate fathers...
             wed-locked in white, their arms full of
                                                     vulva pink roses.

Pink girls give birth to sadness...
       cut the cord, and pull themselves back together again---
                     piece by jagged jigsaw piece
                             of love's ragged edges...

Pink girls are crazy quilts
       stitched together with hope.

The life span of pink girls is very short---
They must learn to protect themselves,
         and are most often asphyxiated, or starved to death...
                 trapped within their own armour.

Pink girls are nearly extinct.

Those who survive are found in regions closest to the sky,
       where the winds are bitter and the soil rocky...
               where girls bloom like rare alpine flowers...
                           pink---the colour of wishing.