we wear them like the Renaissance -
adornments of the past, jewels
to cover eyes that no longer see truth,
I have been misguided, misjudged, mishandled,
my words have been lacquered like doll's eyes
- painted into memory -
and I disguise myself with them,
puffed sleeved dresses, square necked,
scarlet trimmed, broach garnished garishness,
all a facade to become someone different
so that I might paint myself into the fancy eyes
of someone who can truly understand I am more
- than stone -