creamy and rich,

bursting with colour,

reds, oranges, pinks and nudes,

but no one mentions the black.


I watch it glide,

Across my lips,

Transforming pink,

To a deep dark black,

I smile a smile,

Belonging to me,

A black lipsticked smile,

Of a boy playing with fire.


Who says lipstick belongs to women?

Men have lips and so do boys,

Women cross dress all the time,

Why can’t we?




Author: Henri Darkner

Life is harsh. Love is harsh. God makes it better. I've always loved to read, and daydream too. I love literary pairings in sounds and text, styles and images. My favourite book is 1984 by George Orwell.

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