near-poem written after running for the bus, realizing i forgot eyeliner (again), and thinking of my beautiful cousins

my branch has never produced a beauty queen
not that we haven't any beauty,
with our dark eyes
dark hair
cheekbones out to there

we brush our hair
we put on makeup
with one eye on the clock
looking over our shoulder
at the work to be done

Painting a smile over a mouth
firm and determined

who has
hours to labor
over just the right combination
of pearl and glitter
light and shadow

our eyes weaken
from the monitors, the tiny print
our lines embed
from problem-solving
negotiating

when each day means more than what to wear
how we look
is part of the journey
not the destination