Acetone Test

Beauty nuzzles me with braille when I refuse to open my eyes.

Passes vials of perfumes under me,

a plastic Shaman promising consciousness

then dousing me with ammonia inhalants.

It orbits me in the Lapis Lazuli ring

A moon to the lazy gesticulations of my left hand.

Beauty gives me aphasia

of body language

phantom limb, and lips part subcortically.

Unconvinced these body parts mine

I give them away

for free.

The Lazurite you decorate me in

mistook me for an elaborate creature.

I tried to pawn it all

for one soaked night

of clear heels.

I woke with a headache

Fingers stained

ultramarine.

Gravity is understood.

It is the only thing I understand, despite beauty’s willing show.