Eyeliner

is this what

Eyeliner green dreams of?

I’d take the mirror

Flip it upside down, lick the lipstick,

Dip it in the stuff that made up your voice and drown in it,

Is that me? the painted visage of a white blank screen?

Scream, like the painting or the movie—

Green, eyeliner underneath my migraine

Dreams.

I want my face as invisible and as impressionistic :

“Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte”

To be shown in encased living death, to have a tall man catatonic, staring

Closer, inching closer

Breath like a tonic

Is that a kiss? —oh!, no touching the paintings sir! Move back! (Oops? Sorry!)

Whichever mechanism

Drives me to be

A human being,

I paint my lips,

I show my hips

I squat, I Drop my hair

In curls

And show you my eyes—-

What’s behind them, truth or disguise?

Eyeliner

Looks hot on guys and gals.