Cosmetics do no good:
no shadow, rouge, mascara, lipstick —
nothing helps.
However artfully I comb my hair,
embellishing my throat & wrists with jewels,
it is no use — there is no
semblance of the beautiful young girl
I was
& long for still.
My loveliness is past.
& no one could be more aware than I am
that coquettishness at this age
only renders me ridiculous.
I know it. Nonetheless,
I primp myself before the glass
like an infatuated schoolgirl
fussing over every detail,
practicing whatever subtlety
may please him.
I cannot help myself.
The God of Passion has his will of me
& I am tossed about
between humiliation & desire,
rectitude & lust,
disintegration & renewal,
ruin & salvation.
— Steve Kowit
Oh how true. I now note this is a feeling I and so many , many women know so well .It’s said that truth hurts , maybe a reason it took a man to write what is a females painful truth :-)
Brilliant work .