The Lipstick

Another day droops to nothingness, with the parting of the Sun As it drowns itself scattering colours for the world to look by A mix of red with a slight of pink And the glow of orange and yellow within An open palette of expression and freedom Even at its end the day spins an extravaganza of colour I sit by the smoking fire of the kitchen, a small strip of the sky Visible through the tainted glass of an unopened window I wonder if I could ever? Paint myself a world , a step away from the gloom of fog Slice the smoke with a light of my own And I look at the lipstick left on the table It wasn't mine, someone just gave it to me It would suit your skin they said A beautiful bright cherry red I apply it generously And smudge it at the flat of its end. I look in the mirror again And I see myself, volatile full of power I smile and close my eyes Float in to my dreams again After a day's spent, and the night falls And I am spent being the mother and loving wife I move to the glass and look at the sky Paint my lips in the nascent red Feel the fragrance that rises from it And initiate my feet to a rhythm A commoner mingling in the streets in the day Becomes a star with just that hint of red. 20 July 2021 Finding your muse contest Regina McIntosh