After Ever

Everybody’s husbands fall in love with me.
It can’t be helped, they know
I’d look good turned to sea foam,
the shell of my pink voice
tumbling till lost on the ocean’s dark floor.
Once a man at a bar told me
my hair made him hard
so I borrowed a blade from the bartender,
hacked it off in clumps,
and gave it to him.
So many colors! Like a sunset
if the sky was made of body parts.
When I was young I was dead
and my job was to wait
for a good man to kiss, you know,
a man who is good but also into kissing
dead girls. So what could I do?
I forgot my name and got good at math.