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i return to you dressed in red painted toenails
carrying my heart in my right hand

my pen in my left

you admire my purple lipstick
“eccentric” you say

“royal” i say
“but i am not your queen”

he look away to search the concrete for words

i look to the sun

he say “your toes. red polish. you hate red”

“i write in red for you. i paint in red for you” i say
“see my pen here?”

“i see. but your other hand full” he say
“what’s in it?”

“can’t you see?”

but he can’t see what’s there—my heart
all he sees is my fist balled tight

“i see green nail polish on your thumb” he say
“and grass seeking sun is growing up through the cracked concrete”

© zaji, 2016