I drenched my hair
in argon oil,
dabbed my lips ballet pink,
stained my teeth white,
all for myself because no one looks at me
in the mirror but myself

The back

My Dad’s back was putty,
and someone played the piano on it.
He wore a shirt swimming, but at home my Dad let
me walk on his acne-scarred back.
He said it felt good to have my feet on his back.
I loved looking at all the dents.
This is my Dad’s back that raised me.