Mel's Mood
she applies her eyeshadow
so skillfully it looks
like two sunrises
under her eyebrows
full of the pastels
that swim the sky
right before the sun arises
a wondrous mix of
blue purple and pink
all atop brown skin
that was good to look at
and even better to touch.
she was a singer
and being intelligent
she understood that image
was very much a part of it
so she got the job
at H&M
and the fly threads
for discount prices
for her and her family.
she was fine.
like butter.
in heels. in flats. in jeans. in skirts.
a distinctive style.
u couldn't buy that shit
in stores. not that way
she hooked it up
with the five dollar
sunglasses. the braclets and beads
from the vendors outside.
we met indoors.
at music. school.
what a paradox.
it was meant
to be
or not to be
that was never the question
but rather
was it beautiful? i say
yes.
beautiful like the colors
pregnant in the sky
as the sun births itself.
or later when the sun
dies it's daily suicide.
all good things must end.
even poetry.
love.
maybe God tryin
to tell me somethin.
