cold-blooded smile
and somber cues
you think
you laugh —
but
inside she’s
s m i l i n g
her fingers now
holding her
serpent brush —
as she dyes
new days
with ocher
embracing
l a y e r s
black stilettos found
in her long-forgotten
chest of time
nearly crying out —
barefoot days
a r e o v e r
while her canvas,
fair
sets those
h
e
e
l
s
alight,
cold-blooded
s m i l e —
stomping feet
through
p l i g h t
her fingers, now,
firmly hold
the brush—
as she paints
new days
with ocher
embracing
l a y e r s
high-heeled,
great
shine,
warm-blooded,
s l i g h t ,
you think
she cries —
but,
inside,
s h e ’ s
s m i l i n g