"We're in Uniform!"

A Co-worker walked by my office this afternoon. She peered in through the doorway, and stared at me for a tiny moment. Then, she smiled and her big eyes lit up. "We're in uniform!" she exclaimed in her high, innocent voice. Huh? I shot her a confused glare. She was gesturing towards her clothing.

I look down at my own. It was true. We were in uniform, both of us dressed alike, as if we were sisters.

But we couldn't be more different.

That got me thinking, and here is my writing exercise for today:

"We're in uniform!"
All of us - our bodies bathed
in different shades of violets, blushing
fucias and baby blues. We
all of us paint
our eyes and brush our lashes,
hide behind our perfumes.

We're in uniform,
all of us, we click
our heels, sway our hips
and wear, delicately -
our worries upon our shoulders
like lavish furs. Hiding
deep within our creases
of our painted faces,
we're all in uniform, together hiding
from each other.