Content warning:
leaving the house & my mother tells me
change your dress she says
it will attract attention she says
not like other mothers
who worry about bare thighs and catcallers
but my dress goes down my calves
has sleeves that can be tugged down my wrists
& my mother still does not want me to seek attention
imagine going out in this dress & becoming
a bloody clarion call for all the bad things to come
a boar-head spirit following my back
while i sway in the wind like a matador’s flag
a long-tongued ghost laps at my silk skirts
until they stick to my shins
as i wait at the bus stop
& watch the faded orange paint chip away
far away a dog howls
my mother she says your lipstick is too red
& you should throw it out
i have ten of them now rolled in a drawer
rust & ruby & rose cream & velvet & gloss
i paint them on
watch watch
this scarlet mouth & my scarlet nails
in a long red dress i stand at the bus stop & i wait