Self

by Francesca Klein

I was born from paper mache pieces of Rolling Stone
wandering through the astral plane
and becoming your fears
through the cracks of a cracked society
the sizzle of ash and brain cells
and flowers of your mother’s favorite dress warp into faces of disapproval
and her perfume wafting through your subconsciousness
ancient sky Gods relinquishing power
we turn some world inside out