Beautiful Underground

I used to eat the makeup; Eat the lipsticks, and the liquid makeup Turned my tongue a delicate beige. Once I choked myself on a mouthful of powder At a crucial moment, when my mother And grandmother were occupied, as always: When mother came to pick me up, They would tell each other briefly of their day. At the exact instant they were talking; Unobserved in the bedroom adjoining, I bit into that white talcum. I don't know why I always did such things: Perhaps I thought it would go all thru me, Disguising the flaws and imperfections On the inside; all the invisible places. Even if only I knew my insides were perfect Primer beige, with red blushing lipstick highlights, Still it meant I was beautiful at least on the inside. I was not allowed to wear makeup On the outsides of me. Don't things denied us Always move underground, anyway?