you are what you eat
but it's not true
you are what you evince
"your face is just a mask you wear
but masks are different faces"
i've lived so long as the same old superhero
hair in a ponytail, glasses, no makeup,
clothes comfortable and safe, too
unstylish to be conservative, not really
saying much of anything at all.
it's all i can say,
where i have to say it.
i have become my work uniform.
a peacock from the lands of previous lives
stops in, his eyes twinkling as i cut
a yard of teal fur, a yard of green fishnet.
i wish i could strike up conversation, but
certainly they would catch on if i
leaned in close and whispered,
"listen, i've a closet full of sparkly and sheer
that's coated with dust and i need to be rescued.
my silver eyeliner is caked and neglected,
and i don't know if i remember
how to safety pin on a toga for a night.
i've yards and yards of dreams at my place;
what say we nip off and make our very bodies howl?"
but what i say is:
"i have some of this exact fur at home."
and he favors me with a bemused glance,
as if i weren't awake.
in oversized brown pants and khaki tee,
mousy and nondescript, a nameless peon,
i am clark_kent unable to say
i know you, i have powers too, because
somewhere along the way,
i forgot how to wear red and blue spandex.