Long Live Red Lips

I never had the face of youth.
It was like I went
from twelve to twenty-two
and my face didn't change.

Makeup stains
and lipstick wonder
brightened my day
so easily
and you
stopped
to stare
at the red
I painted
across my lips
just the way
I wanted you to.

It was so simple
for a while -
the blonde, blue-eyed girl
that made you look.
Then age intruded
on us
like a scolding parent,
eager to keep the discovery
slow and snail-paced.

I still have that shade
of lipstick
and every once in a while
I swipe it across my lips
just to remember
what your stare
felt like.