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Modeling in Tokyo

Frances Dyers

And in this room, with its white walls,
I stood out enough to be hidden away.
The foliage of my hair offering shade
to the woman who reached up to its splendor,

and dug to its root to apply her poison of,

This is not what we’re looking for.


I smiled brightly
despite my leaves falling to the ground

in this never-ending autumn
Where I’m reminded that
at least
it’s no longer winter


And yet, I find myself standing in the cold
looking up at the billboards
of those who stole the light of our sun
to shine upon themselves as they look down on us,

with all the glory of a Walmart deity

and wonder

“Why don’t they shine as bright as we do?”

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