You would think I’d pulled a nuclear bomb,
or evidence of the 2nd coming,
out of my bag.
Because I dare to go bare,
or dare just to be too damn lazy,
a tube of lipstick is a major event.
I don’t judge if you paint–
Sister, flaunt your shit if you got it–
but I like going to bed
with the same face I woke up with.
But still,
sometimes your lips are chapped,
or you’re bored,
or you don’t feel pretty enough (for who for whom?).
It’s nice to hear, “Oh! You’re hot!”
But wasn’t I before?