Metamorph

This is where I watch my mother transform/

Where she she pulls the black as night mascara

through her lashes/ lines her eyes with after dark/

paints her supple lips with "don't touch me" brown/

or "I'll call my own cab" red/

She places a sweet smelling oil between her breasts/

and behind her ears/ runs her experienced hands over

the curves in her dress/ checks out her own ass.

This is where I watch myself transform/

Wipe off the cheap mascara from my fragile lashes/

scrub the tar from my water line/ and smear the lipstick

of my choice/

I peel off my dress/ and I wash the sweet smelling oil

from between my breasts/ and behind my ears/ I do not

run my hands over the curves of my body/ I do not look

at my own ass/ try not to look at myself at all/

This is where the women transform.