(G)listen

On the sailboat, pink skin already burns,
the sun’s power masked by light breezes.
So much can be hidden under make-up,
under polite smiles with white-blue teeth

The beautician’s soft hands don’t even shake
as they move in to choke you.

Would you like a cold beverage, sir?
The cooler is full of ice. Drop it
in the sea & see how quickly
each cube melts into the greater body,
almost before it slips below the surface,
long before it could ever reach the sea-
floor. Of course, ice cannot sink
as density is equal in all forms of water.

And what of the people on the boat?
Would they float or go under, if they
jumped or were pushed? Would the soft
hand drop her tube of coral lipstick
to reach down and save them?

We cover so many imperfections.
What if we just let them be? Let our
lips be the color of lips, our nails
the color of nails. Our souls, soul-
colored and smooth sailing in a boat
built not on words but deeds, poised
to go where the wind might take us.