I can sing to myself as acid rain pours

down my face, washing dirt and mascara

and clumps of hair down the drain.

I don't usually start with glitter --

always a penciled in cat's eye,

sharp and smokey before it dulls from sweat --

but today my super graphic girl

will walk through the door,

and I think that warrants some party.

I'll cover it with eyeshadow,

which, despite the name,

flourishes and livens my pale face up.

After all, who wouldn't be tickled pink

at the love of their life coming over?

I'll finish it off with mascara,

pristine and not quite running yet,

it'll make my hazel eyes pop

when they see her!