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I put on diving gear,
search for shells
find thin pieces—
jewelry, parts of bones,
bold under water.
Visible difference,
every day
rapid repair.
A new look—
sultry splash
tossed far out.
Mollusk. Girls pile up
on the beach;
I could be one of them,
collecting what’s not lost—
matte in a bag
white with a razed edge
or black—halved at the core.
Tides pulls me back
to the deep end,
holes I bury my feet in,
a holding base
with long lasting concealer,
heavy defense formula.
Here's a wave;
I think of you,
your shimmery shades
of unkindness.
I could go overboard
with glossy finish
or begin to soften edges,
remove residue
and with fine lines,
swimmingly forget.
Face
It
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