Tiffany's Breakfast Club

Tiffany's Breakfast Club

Fi Smith

The night dancing in us, still - city blocks, our backdrop, buildings beam at us, we hood our eyes and pine for a note of rotary splendour. A shaky finger dips sugary filigree toward my lips, conversation splayed out like constellations - so easy for you to swallow a string of pearls, your swan neck undulating. Unsure I suck an opal smooth, guilty nibbles at exquisite ginger garnets, fit to dangle from Lupita's lobes. You toss back angular sapphires, chug chunky solitaires, all abandon washed down with an elegant Breitling. Your laugh is out of time, the Tsar bell had it never cracked, crunching a diamond necklace in your carven jaw, blood like rubies dripping down your soft human suit.


Fi Smith is a poet from Dublin, Ireland, and blog editor for, an annual festival of mental health awareness through the arts. Her work has been published in The Incubator Journal and The Blue Nib. @fifilebon

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