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
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