Requiem For A Quinn

Heavy is the crown that fits heads so dense, and gray the days that Quinn's garbs don't make sharp testament of fashion reflex: 

How does she know that today is Hassanal Bolkiah's birthday?  How?  Is it because I inserted an image of her leaning in lentor? 

I think after stepping on a Waif with the enamel still fresh synapses flared the charcoal stains in her brain to paint her maudlin in grayscale. 

Very felicitous in any case that it is likewise National Clean Beauty Day.  Of course all the week is litany in the same thing to her, but Barbies don't get to be played with when there isn't the reek of kanekalon modacrylic washed over too many fingerprints to count 

and other things I cannot say because I told Kristen I would hold my tongue.  By the way I'm not Kristen, in case you didn't read the name.  She will be back by the 29th on Tuesday. 

The art is a beautiful rendition by the late Amy Quinn née Whisenhunt, or KemicalReaxion. 

Works: 

• "Is It Adulthood Yet?" chapter seventeen, by Halliwell_P (Spanish).