Girl Signals

I am a stick of Chapstick,
rolling around in the dryer,
leaving little marks
that won't be discovered until later,
after I am gone.

I could be a ruby lipstick,
tumbling against the whites,
branding each with bright streaks
defining my destruction in red
as I go.

But no.

I'm the Chapstick, hiding stories in plain sight.




***

New art and an observation.