Exposed!

While perusing the cosmetics aisle, the lip gloss section entitled "Glam Shine" caught my eye. Ooh, I thought. Glam. At that moment, I had a flashback of the time I gave my friend, Viv, lip gloss for her birthday. I chuckled out loud as I remembered Viv and I having a good laugh at the name of the particular lip wear colour: "Soul Sista". Viv may have soul, but she's not exactly waving her hands and stomping her feet in a gospel choir; in any case, she most certainly is not a "sista".

I hand-picked a few shades that appealed to me, still scoffing at the silliness of correlating names of lip wear to one's personality. In mid-laugh, I read the bottom stickers of the lip gloss in my hands: "Princess"; "Prima Donna"; "Drama Queen". I abruptly stopped laughing and suddenly became a bit nervous. Hm. How ironic. I promptly chose "Prima Donna" and, a little disturbed, proceeded to the check-out counter with my new lip gloss.

These things mean nothing. Really.

La Cathedrale engloutie

in mist it sits
beneath the sea, suspended
wait for it to emerge,
silence speaks in caged movement

O the blessed are cursed,
peu a peu sortant de la brume
relics cry with the anguish of fire,
ashen hands grasp for life, while priests
laugh

what splendour, what guise!
Behold, the pearl of the sea shatters like glass,
yet it remains to rise, resurface, while priests
purge


holiness chants with a veil,


it is sunken