magic and lipstick.

she finds herself 

again, seared open, 

tender enchantment  

standing solitary 

in the corner 

she finds her 

skin is still soft

hair still falls carefully 

over shoulders and 

arms angled 

gentle like hooks 

for capture, 

weapons to love

with burning 

anticipation

that can only 

disqualify her

she finds herself 

again and again

hands empty, blue 

wide open, putting 

lipstick back on, and

that bra, those boots,

the mask that will be 

thrown aside next 

week, or next year

again, uncovered 

and she feels 

the magic before 

it enters the room, 

after it has faded 
away, again and again

disbelief turned to

emptiness, possibility 

left smoldering

then gone tepid,

the lost and the

found, and lost again

© 4.7.2018 heather brager