A woman’s makeup is the world we know.
Secrets are nothing. All is show.
Darling, take off the sun, and put on the night,
Where the stars speak and the shadows are bright.
Today I saw a woman applying makeup on the train.
Sure, I watched her, and I would do it again.
I was filled with wonder, that at first she was plain,
And then a beauty was sitting on the train.
This is what we want from love, nine times out of ten.
Take it off. But please, put it on, again.
What is artificial? Everything. Light is light—the sun
Or ugly light bulbs—my indoor flower’s sun.
Light is light—and lust is lust.
Nothing’s real. We fall.
The result, the way it looks, is all.
Do your eyes—I trust
It is you—isn’t it you?—and if it’s not you,
You look good in makeup, too.