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When I Become Beautiful
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I once heard of lips referred to as Popsicles
Popsicle lips
Right there in black and white
In that book whose author I can’t remember
And I wonder what that means…
And I wonder if maybe I have Popsicle lips
I hope someday some author says I have Popsicle ears
That way everything I hear will be juicy and sweet
So sticky that I can’t forget a tune
Or speech
Or word
Popsicle ear and lemon eyes
Lemon eyes that make you tense when you see them
Because they aren’t actually yellow, but just as bright
My lemon eyes will be strong
But don’t forget that sugar turns lemons sweet
Popsicle ears
Lemon eyes
Baked bread hands
Poets will someday write about my baked bread hands
Which are so warm and soft and white
Handsome boys will travel miles just to hold them
Hold my baked bread hands and look into my fearless lemon eyes
And say good words that stick to my Popsicle ears
