(no subject)

[oleander__]

Have a poem for you all. Freshly written and waiting to be critiqued.


she pulled gently at the
corner
of her eye;
drew the brush just over
her eyelashes
(they were still
golden brown.)
she said

she always felt so
plain
compared herself to magazines
and cried
over their glittering eyelids.

now i can be them,
she told me.
now i'm glamourous.

i wanted to ask her
if she was
satisfied.
but the question stuck in my throat;
i swallowed,
smiled at her reflection.

yeah, i said,
you are.