New Skin (aka Transportation)

Tight low-cut tank top, tight leggings
show off my best features. Pencils,
kohl, powders make a new face
and excavate a secret one.
She says my neck is beautiful
so I wear a tight choker, a raven necklace.
I smile at the person in the mirror – I’ve arrived fashionably late.
Wrapped in my faux-fur coat like a black-and-white starlet,
I ponder names like Hedy, Simone, Sylvia, Constance.
I can’t outrun my problems in these heels,
but I can outwalk them.

Keep moving. Already my legs feel longer.
Loosened, I stride, I strut; I perform confidence,
as I perform everything. Pensioners walking a dog.
Keep moving. Man in a dark coat. Cross the road.
Keep moving. Night falls! Behold the lady of the evening!

Keep moving. Every day is uphill,

and now I climb a hill. Toes begin to ache,
my feet are the wrong size for these boots but they will learn.
The climb is easier than normal. Like dominoes,
my wrong body starts to do everything right.

Arriving, I rest my weary feet.
Conversation begins. I realise
they’re catching up. Rise.
Keep moving.