White has served me well: (
cut the colon. it's not necessary and is, I believe, actually incorrect. I think a simple comma would suffice.)
masking the flaws of my genetic code- (
also, cut this dash. overpunctation is unnecessary, ugly and distracting to your readers)
broadening my breasts, which hang
like veal, strung to a butchers hook.
(excellent imagery)
Harold said he loved every inch of me- (
again, punctuation)
he died a happy man.
We married in white, and despite my sins
they declared I looked angelic. (
I love these lines)
colour has the charm to transform- (
punctuation, and also this line may be a bit too telly, you're giving too much.)
I confirm this daily, with my war paint. (
war paint is cliche)
battling white-demise with sandy colour radiance.
Yet everywhere are objects emitting my truth-
toothpaste squeezed limp, hanging meekly (
meekly is implied by the limp hanging, always be mindful of unnecessary adverbs)
over the holder, apple shrivelled on the sill
withdrawing from the world- festering-
on bad days I call it the apple of my decay. (
this line, also, too telly and cliche)
What’s a woman to wear for her date with death- (
consider stanza break?)
will he care if my mini skirt barely conceals
the skeletal horror of leg, would he prefer
functional attire- something easily removed. (
these lines are good)
And then there are the mourners to consider
should I shawl my entirety to lessen the grief?
Maybe Martha can cherry my zipped lips.
I abandoned purity, drunk in my mother black dress.
Afterwards, on the bed post it looked like a child
that had broken a vase. (
another excellent image)
Should yellow be considered? I fear it’s a little bright. (
consider cutting the questions here and blending the idea, 'i fear yellow too bright, pink... instead of having a bunch of separate questions, which actually pull your reader out of the moment and out of the images in their minds.)
What of pink? –Memories of pony tail and first crush.
Red’s the language of life- I have no time for such irony.
I go with white. Today it is sympathetic:
it falls over me like a just spent lover, loose, but loving.
Tomorrow it may change; Harold would wait hours
whilst I dressed, patiently perusing the papers,
humming or happily watching. (
don't need 'happily' or consider a stronger verb choice. over alliteration is too cheap for your work)
I hear no sound from death- I fear he shall not wait.
Excellent piece with an enormous amount of potential if you don't mind taking the time to sit down and reconsider a couple of things and possibly do some cutting. I love when you write from this perspective. It surprises me every time and you do it very well.
Thanks,
Jen
