My Higher Power
by Talia Brava, to Brava (god)
My Higher Power’s a double D with 0% belly fat
Her eyelashes flirt with her hairline
Lips so vaginal, they speak only cum
Her nose, a button you misplace because so button sized
Her butt, inspiration for the word “bubble” and concept of wheel
Toes, Kumare goddess soft
Clavicle, Thames deep
Calves, Webster’s defined
My Higher Power, medical grade exhausted, is flying on PCP
Aging like the rest of us, she’s formaldehyde preserved
Butt, cheek, and spirsonally lifted, she graces down to light the way
(Brazil- no anesthetics but you get what you pay for)
My Higher Power’s physical sperfection leaks outside to in like pesticides on peaches- beautifying her whole immortal being in flesh hued bovine synthesizers
My higher power never leaves me for she is me and I by proxy am her- elevated from the sick game of being human- of waking up naked and afraid. From loving those who feel nothing and shrinking from any who feel anything at all. From seeking fame and grandeur and settling for a job folding sweat towels at LA Fitness.
From worrying every day: “Am I a delusional narcissist, whose not working hard enough to fulfill untold potential- if only I really believed I could be rich famous powerful creatively expressed and finally marry a rich man plus babies who’ll export me from this circle jerk of “art” “money” “fame,” perverse tail on the donkey I’m playing stalkhomed in my own studio apartment off the 101--praying for LA to get it’s shit together with public transport to Bravadence-- where at last- on my throne- again- I am god I am Brava I am mantra-ed to death………………………………….
ONE DAY I will levitate up in Britney 2000 sperfection, slowly, so all the girl friends who ditched me can put it on their IG stories.