Home Work (HA 58 Almost-Pushkin Sonnet)

House Arrest

I never was attracted to the stuff
a girl’s supposed to like. I never sought
a make-up tip or owned a powder puff,
I hate to shop, and what my mother taught
was mostly useless and irrelevant.
I tried to run my own experiment
in human over gender, clear within,
and yet I lavish care upon my skin.

I found a facialist and spent the cash,
indulging in a treatment frequently,
suspended now while we’re in house arrest.
I bought from her (online) a precious mask –
the kind that doesn’t block or filter me –
and dedicate today to face unstressed.

This entry was posted in Coronaverse, Health, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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