Baby, That's Show Business

You wake up branded with the lines of pillow creases
Thunderbolted tree roots across your cheek.
In turn, last night’s mascara stains
the ivory hotel pillowcase
Each one leaving their mark on the other 
Looks like you’re even.
You say ‘good morning’ to them when you walk in
and they don’t correct you
As they spray vodka
on the armpits of the dancers’ costumes
We learn these tricks along the way
The flesh toned bandage wrap
Covered by skin colored fishnets
Because you will cover the wound,
No matter how deep it is.
No one ever knew.
And, baby, that’s show business for you.