your knees crack as you bend,

squinting into the case.
tiers upon tiers of lipstick,
backlit, so the tips of
those technicolor bullets look crisper.
fresher.
sharper.

the top row:

angel
divine
grace
prayer
pure
modesty
lullaby
shy girl
real doll
kitten
sweet thing
coquette
lolita

and one row below:

underage
heartbreaker
bombshell
fetish
smack
stalker
scandal
liar
shame
tarred
lament
damage
sin

you learn that there are two ways we can paint ourselves. you think, at least they do us a favor and keep the palettes apart.