WHEN YOU'RE MADE UP
Laura Brun

i liked her in her shiny shoes, her tailored
dress-pants, blazer, liked her in her winter
hat, unlined eyes, unglossed lips, i liked her

risky, how she mimed a driving wheel,
drove sloppy, rattled keys, backed me up
against her bed, shoved me in. i like your

tight jeans, following you up the stairs your
walk cuts into itself, thighs willowy, i like
your clenched, stubbled jaw, flatness of your

chest. i liked all of their softnesses, broad plains,
swaths of skin. i liked everyone for a while at
least and they liked me in necklace, in black tights,

in low-cut top, skirt or dress, they liked me better,
they said or said roundabout, you look real nice
today
every skirt or dress day, lining my eyes more

frequently and the one who had a knack for saying
just what made me feel the worst said i like you
like that, you look so mean when you're made up.





Laura Brun is a poet from small-town Kentucky who lives and writes in Pittsburgh. She currently works at the Carnegie Museums and reads poetry submissions for IDK Magazine. Her first chapbook, "It's Alright to Be Seen," is available now from Dancing Girl Press. Her poems are most recently found or forthcoming in Cosmonauts Avenue, Lambda Literary's Poetry Spotlight, and others. You can find more about her at lauranbrun.blogspot.com and can follow her on Instagram @laurabrrrrun.



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