Goin' for the Lipstick

getting ready to head out on foot

for soup

sore throat demands it

rain has stopped

for now.

put on my coat

and the blonde wig I've been using

for a hat

quick look in the mirror:

women's coat, 

women's burgundy corduroy pants (not too feminine, but still)

wig

red painted fingernails…

yep

i’m goin’ for the lipstick.

put on just a bit at first

then more to even out the edges

smack

then i wipe off a bit 

perhaps trying to cut down on the garishness factor

perhaps out of fear

of hillbillies in trucks

of football players

of people who wear sports clothing in general

of military personnel 

trump supporters

family

friends

and persecuted ethnic minorities with a deeply-driven fear of appearing weak

or “queer”

(a word i’ve never really related to, 

but perhaps the time has come to choose sides…)

all of these spiraling details 

in just a little flash of

paint

magnified in significance 

by my hyperactive imagination

until it isn’t.

I walk out the door and into the night

hoping I wiped enough away that it 

won’t leave a stain on my soup spoon

and kind of hoping that i didn’t 

too.