The Fine Art of Faking it

I put on my make up.
I slip on my shoes.
Brush the eyelash from my cheek
and put my day smile on.
Straighten up my shoulders
and push out my bust.
Every surface gleams and is,
free from mar or mark.

That’s the way my life goes.
if I order the surface,
no one stops
to look underneath.

That is the way
I ghost through days.
I have found the fine art
of faking it.

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