The Closet

A poem from the collection Love Trajectory, in the first section "Ill Equipped"

Photo by Dushawn Jovic on Unsplash

We used to wear red lipstick
and drink red wine, matching.
We didn't have the courage to match our own lips just
yet.

We wrote stories of darkness and (k)nights,
in smoky rooms full of our filterless cigarettes
with obscure music on vinyl.

We wore our hair on point,
done to the T-
and fairy wings-
and designer coats to kill for.

Once, in our family, someone did.
Kill for.