• The walk is done
    with miniskirts and
    thick layers of foundation
    flashing;
    gathering to this moment
    with cheeks streaked
    with the black
    of the many layers of
    reapplied eyeliner,
    curving inwards where the bone
    stops
    to emphasise the hollow
    left by the months
    of leaving
    hurriedly
    at the call for dinner.

    Childhood taken away
    by a career
    which will be over once
    the body has
    evolved
    from puberty;
    when the admirers
    see their icons as
    attainable.

    I wipe away the eyeliner
    in the mirror
    streaking it to look
    like grey foundation
    on the white,
    making my face
    look
    like a skull,
    the hollow cheeks
    grey like a corpse's.

    Readying myself
    for the walk
    of my dreams; any girl's
    dreams,
    like the satisfaction of
    resisting
    that tempting
    smell of food which
    will make me
    unfit
    to open the show
    with a flash of
    bony seduction.