for christmas my sister buys me lipstick
named pick me, love me. she says
i wear it well, this shade of uncooked
salmon belly, & i do not tell her it lingers
even after my skin peels, this shame i gorge
myself on every time i am unwanted again.
 
according to merriam-webster,
undesired does not mean undesirable.
an unpicked apple may simply be awaiting
a taller farmer, a riper tongue, newton
in a timeline where newton dreams
up gravity & wakes up on its knees.
 
last week a boy i loved woke up
on my knees then drove out
of the valley of my gravity.
last year a boy i loved woke up
on his knees then told me i was
the stopover to his new york city.
 
in this timeline the men are always
turning every cheek. always leaving
bite marks in my flesh before exiting
the store. mother brews me barley &
says she still wants me, her apple-
cheeked baby, dream made flesh, but
 
it's not like god takes refunds anyway.
maybe someday i will rediscover
gravity & then break pink lipstick
over my knees. or maybe i wear
shame well, this valley of truth,
this undesired undesirability.