How does one narrate beauty
in it's dimensions, perhaps, no solution
no recipe, as it is
in perfection an imperfection
in itself a million faults
amplified to make one right
as one pore cannot be removed for it's disgrace
one brow it's crookedness
one hair it's disarray
for it is as a whole that we speak of
beauty
insurmountable
I challenge those that claime only the mind is superior
and the visage merely a mirage
assuredly it would be no more
in death or etched by age
yet truth is the creed I pledge my faith
and painful though it be to some
I claime
beauty speaks for itself
outside, assuredly
and through the skin
where the mind of deeper reflection
may soften the sins that the womb did etch
or restrain onself from a vile appearance
that often a prideful, hateful beauty
has unwittingly sown on her face.
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