The Diva

I look at my toes, appendages on aging feet; crusty nail on Hallux masked with crimson red; the others, too disfigured, even for this disguise. You placed your lips around it once; this toe a while ago, too long ago; before. Your lipstick matched the color, I remember. Faintly. All ten grip the edge of the board; though, I barely see them, past the distention. High above the pool, empty now, drained. Ravens stabbing at some carrion a putrid captive in a blue empty basin. They won’t let go; they will; I have. One last dive. I was magnificent!