Sundays

I tried on a new shade of lipstick today. I tried on a new dress, I tried on old words, dripping across piles of papers and reminding me how the depths of despair are a well for poetry. There is no tit that doesn't return a tat, there is no summer that doesn't have one winter behind it and one ahead. Your appearance may change in the mirror, some days I think I am more ghost than woman, but do you know today I tried on a new shade of lipstick and smiled in the mirror while my arms were full of midwinter tears and I think the secret to life is to carry all those sides and all those seasons all at once, and do you know today for a short minute I think I did.

Today for a short minute
I think I was
entire.