She is certain her mouth,
painted cerise,
will not wear away
too soon. She may
become all lips
without limbs, without
a neck, without a torso.
She would still dip
this color, with certainty,
to her brush.
Long before
day one
there was
this painted mouth:
Lipstick in hand,
she drew her mouth
perfectly without looking.
Later, watching herself
be an artist,
her lips canvas,
she drew a cinnabar moth,
not a kiss.
I love this one. Wonderful imagery.
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Joan:
Thank you! I so appreciate that you are reading this thing.
Amy
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