Wrapping paper

Liquid Gold, the label read
She punched its sides
And smacked its bottom
A dot of cream sizzled out

Dabbing it on her face
She covered the marks he made
The blues turned into a canvas
The purples became freckles of gold

Well done, the mirror replied

She slipped out of the home
Now glowing in the sun
She didn't realise
Burnt and bruised, her shadow followed