Tightly dressed, of purse
Carefully she pulled out; enemy
Size-less, brain-less and memory-less
She cleaned the enemy
With sleeve, the tip of her elbow
Then-after stood firm pointed enemy
Her long archaic lashes
Her painted eyelids, as lazuli blue
One closed, one remained open, she
Took the soft brush and
Added to the blue of the closed
Later repeated the similar for other
So-called precious mirror
This enemy of women for long
Returned into the purse; she went
At the bar, confident of
Her eyes being able to sell her
She accepted that invite, the glass
Before leaving the hotel
He left the notes by the mirror
“She is but artificial” he told Tom
“And a fool she is, ” Tom
Gathered himself and replied
She learned about judgment, cried
“Mirror-mirror on the wall”
She sang; her eyes clouds “Foe
To girls, women till they die” loud
She said and slit her vein
Police recovered the body, red
Soaked, stench and aged in bathtub.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem