finger-paint yourself a picture
on a canvas destined for nothing more
than late-night
one-night
kisses

arrange fabric on a doll
that was store bought
for perfection
owned by jealousy
mocked by
lessers

stain lips
to never speak
gentle words
train lips
to reside
in perfect pouts

school eyes
in fluttering
slitted
hooded
gestures
arrange toes
into smooth, unbroken shapes
to be molded
in a set of high heels
high ballers
high flyers
being higher on the food chain
only makes you
more likely
to be consumed
and if we are anything
we are
consumers

limited
to materialistic consumption
we dress ourselves up like
a sweetshop-confection
topped with gucci
and laced with victoria's secret
lucidity

it's not hard to see
what we're about
if this is a judgement
of clear intentions
we are the clear
winners

our faces are perfect
optical illusions
standing on an assembly line
waiting for someone to take a shine
to the curve of our hips
lips
chest
there is nothing to confess
our cards are laid
only after
we
are

She who did not come, wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?

Lovely joy left blank, perhaps you are
the center of all my labors and my loves.
If I've wept for you so much, it's because
I preferred you among so many outlined joys.