Saturday, April 7, 2018

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



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