The Lipstick's Muse - Poem by Sheena Blackhall
Why do you want to be human?
Asked the lipstick’s Muse.
Their conscience is like a cochlear implant
They are glued to work
For fun, they kick a leather ball or fornicate
Lust makes them jig like a fish on a bent hook
Whereas you are a slider, a glider
Slipping out from your glamorous metal sheath
To smear their lips like sweet fudge, melting
Paste can shine the dirtiest brass
Makeup is about identity, you were carefully christened.
You were not named Whipped Caviar
Dissolved in Dreams,
Pinky Nude Sinner
Truffle Tease….that suits you to a T.
Comments about The Lipstick's Muse by Sheena Blackhall
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You