I.
Pull the blind,
I say.
The sun is cancerous.
It ties me into knots
and dries me out
into corn husk.
I sometime feel myself burn
while pupils drifts out of my cornea
and afterwards watch the storm-
clouds swallow my pupils
then exhale them
into cold northeasters.
II.
The mirror
has my colour drip out
like a watered tea cup
and I crack -
Oh, I crack..
It also lies
and suck out my youth
until I shrivel up
into a white prune.
III.
He came the other day.
The tall man
dressed in black
and wide brimmed hat.
He came
with his metal box
and silver quarters
to dress me up
in my Sunday's best;
but he didn't stay.
My body wasn't pale enough
and told me, as if I was Sylvia,
how badly I photographed.
Adding your comment:
s and best wishes always... ~Genie~
.
. Is Zeena a real person? Does this reference a funeral? 
I couldn't really be sure. I'll admit, it's not my favorite by you, but they can't ALL by my favorites, I guess 
. But I still like it, you really brought the character to life, in a certain lifeless way.
