FREE VERSE

Lipstick

A freestyle ode to its many iterations

I want to put it on. A single gesture, a double-slash across the most vulnerable part of the face: It can make or break a whole-ass vibe. Soft pink, perhaps: an inviting glow, a halo of security, And the assurance that no one will be offended by my presence. With soft pink lips I could possibly reclaim the years I lost to poor hygiene, Clarify the haze of social awkwardness that was my reality for so many years, Letting people know I am good at all the girly things — but not overly eager to achieve. With pink lips, my humour shall be light and breezy as my smile. At other times, I desire to shock; To be loud, red, noisy; Sometimes your colours must precede you into the room. Eyes would begin at my face and thirstily, giddily roam the rest of me; What lusciousness, what juicy fun, surely to be found within! And then at other times, I indulge in two lip-shaped shards of crimson, Sneering and professional, unsure who dares to fuck with them– But eager to find out. I am a timid rabbit with the sharp-cut, pouty mouth of a goddess — And I am drunk on the power it affords me.

At other times still, their shade is plain and nude, Worthy of any social medium, Subtle; Above all, the hue of plausible deniability, Should you assume I’m in the mood for anything more. I fancy I shall be sophisticated with such lips, light brownish-pink enigmas you may or may not want to see parted; This is the lipstick of maturity, glamour, and quiet superiority.

And then: sometimes my lips are blue. I desire only to shock and deceive, To have others wonder, “what is she doing with herself?” “Whatever became of her, after all?” “Oh…” “Well, she always was the creative type.” Please — damn me with your faint praise. I love it: to be held in the collective mind not as successful nor as attractive; To divorce from all trends and all expectations. When my lips are blue — that’s when I’ll blow you a kiss.