Vaseline

cover my eyelashes with vaseline
and let the goop shape the world
that surrounds.

the light filtering in through a layer
beating its way through oil and protection

and i'd never have to see your face on the L again.

i'd never fear my fun times in Chicago would be shortened by your judging gaze.

I'd never have nightmares of walking onto the L at Belmont and watching
your eyes shift up
from my feet
to my legs
to my thighs you knew so well once
and finally to my face.
Which would look at you and smile, knowing my strength now.

And that smile would kill you.

I have nightmares that my smile will kill you,
since I know you are and were made of so very little substance.
And the grit that's collected in my laugh lines may have looked like dirt to you
but you never got close enough to see the diamonds.