This Vision Makes Us Beautiful

we have folded into a day
where we can see any
color we want: royal purple,

recesses of indigo,
variants of costume gold
with a weak pulse. a woman

hangs down,
small, strong as the last smoldering bits
of a bonfire, head tilting at an eyelash

angle, each bow of shoulder blade,
each last applique pressing themselves
against the body

young and fleeting, paws all, all
over this chiffon body. a striped curve
of flattering, unzipped off of a

hanger like a first-class trip to other
types of shackles.
a straight line of ugly shakes the

nonlinear so the sentence bumbles
into commas and
breath. the sky-blue visage speaking

in french to show she has sustenance
more flavorful than the nape
of her neck dissolving into

thick veins of peonies. that she
is a being more concrete
than anna wintour, the picture

behind the press
of a tack breaking out into dull rosy
song vis a vis a gloomy redhead

singing about ghosts, god, and
a small murder of girls whose total
number of faces comes to equal one.

Teddi Haynes is a sixteen-year-old poet living in Southern California. She has previously been featured in Inkblot Literary Magazine and Vagabond City Literary Journal, and studies creative writing and poetry at Orange County School of the Arts. In her poetry, she is interested in addressing notions of heredity, family dynamics, self, and introspection.