Okay, so maybe they're pearls

 

 

She shaves her legs

and plucks her brows

and paints her little toes –

 

She brushes stuff upon her cheeks

to make a rosy glow –

 

The color she puts on her lids

has sparkles here and there –

 

yet never fails to question me

 

on things I’m going to wear -

 

She paints her lips

and on her ears

 

hangs oysters from the sea –

 

then picks a tie for me to wear

 

from 1923 –

 

So maybe I’ve no fashion sense

I never was a swooner –

 

but I live in the present tense

 

and ready so much sooner.