This is a fun poem by fellow blogger ArwenAragornStar, about the fluidity of personal identity.
sometimes I want to be a Jean Paul Gaultier doll
a stylishly vulgar androgynous bottle
with platinum hair
and sexy stare
couture tattoos
& no taboos
dancing on a creaky barge on the Seine
then, there are times when I feel very much
like the Coco Chanel bird
tweeting in her golden cage
too exclusive to be touched
feathers
dripping with Frenchness
and a cool intellectual sexiness
what about the rock chick
and her worn leather
vertiginous heels, chunky rings
messy eyeliner
she gets her kicks
from breathing smoke in dirty bars
getting drunk on anaemic guitars
last night, I was none of those things
but a mix of Nicole Kidman and Grace Kelly
I was the icy blonde Hitchcock was so fond of
a Stepford wife lookalike
only—one who would bite
if anyone should be taken in
and not realise I was just play-acting
remember: don’t judge a book…
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