2003-05-27
On my mind for days
Missing Lips
by Phebe Hanson
My lips threaten to run away
To disappear without a trace
To fall down my mouth forever.
Wait, I cry. Don't leave me.
I stab at them with my lipstick,
Try to make them understand.
Leave us alone, they answer.
We want to go away
To a warmer climate for the winter.
Go then, I scream.
See how you do without me.
See if you find someone to feed you.
They fly south on my credit cards,
Charge hotels and meals in Fort Lauderdale,
Swim suits and lounge robes in Palm Springs.
In March they return,
Juicy and brassy,
Talking too much
Even to strangers in elevators
Who look at the floor indicators and
Try not to notice.
They kiss far too often that summer,
Multitudes of mouths on tennis courts and in cloakrooms.
But none seem to move them
Out of their terrible insolence.
I try to ignore them.
They are getting out of hand.
I feed them nothing but lip gloss for months.
They take off on a Greyhound bus,
Work as waitresses, mouth off to truckdrivers
Who complain about weeping meringues on lemon pies.
I go after them in my Volkswagen,
Plead with them to return
To finish high school.
Leave us alone, they pout.
Give us our own room with color T.V.
Stop asking us where we spend our nights and when
We might come back.
Get in the car, I say.
We'll talk about it as we drive.
Sulking and mumbling in the back seat,
They press tightly together. . . say nothing more all the way home.
aigre-douce at 2:29 p.m.