Sunday Best, by Raina Morreau

Sunday Best

I found my shade of lipstick
and it was
Bright red
Blood on a dance floor red
Eyelids pulsing in a toxic twirling hangover red   I found my style of shoes
And they were
Sky high
Please look up my skirt high
I wore these to embarrass hookers high   I got my hair dyed black today
And it is
Under a bridge at midnight black
Roasted remains of a burnt crow black   I wore the best I had
but I was escorted from the building
The bishop’ s way of showing me
My Sunday Best was not worthy

poems.one - Raina Morreau

Raina Morreau