Kabukis were originally female prostitutes
Most women fit that description
Even married ones
Even ones with our own career
Singing, Dancing, Acting
For the dollar
Really brought home when aging
Face with lines carved by a hard life
Like a Kabuki Theatre Mask
Etchings worsened by makeup
Prized high cheekbones
Make shallow pools under eroded eyes
As if wearing John Lennon specs
Naturally rounded
Incised lines in fragile, declining skin
The nose is a nose
Larger with age
But the mouth
Despite years of smiling
(As I tap danced for work supervisors,
Lovers, husbands, friends)
Downturned
Feel like the Bride of Chucky
Still under the spell of the ventriloquist
Tell me what to say
My Kabuki face is all
Lines, lines, lines
I’m no longer a child, yet (like my teen years)
Despite the creases
Despite the inevitability of real health problems
That may appear
I’m still looping about my face…
© 2015 ViataMaja
poeturja 