ISSUE IV - Stings of Insects: Poem *Editor's Work*

Stings of Insects, by Lauren Cho

A poem of and for young women

Applying the colors to her face

bright, varied

exciting

this was an experiment, like finding

the perfect additive

color,

the pigments and the glitter

like the stings of insects

in pigments,

in glitters.

To be grown up, to be

probing in the mirror,

the fresh blood

of red lipstick,

she was an archaeologist digging

but sometimes, she struck

with impatient fists,

the hidden depths

uncovered like ancient bones.

Afterward, she would pour

glosses and shadows,

into the cracks, eking out

like spider webs,

but the beauty

always seeped through,

lost.

Her reflection in windows

purple and red,

black and blue,

she painted others,

butterflies trapped in a bell,

wings crushed into pigment,

glosses and shadows burned

her skin, etched

her into art.

Her beauty

carved by her soul,

still and staring,

silent and solemn,

a Medusa

pieces the fractured mirror

to fix it,

with steady hands.