Beautiful

Somehow you say, I have to be beautiful
but I am not, I have a gash for a mouth
and slits of eyes, two widened holes
that offer themselves as olfactory nerves
and my ears lie too flat to my head
so that when you sing staccato
I just draw another bow
and make my reeds with curses and spittle.

Yet when you hold my hand and smooth
back my hair, I do feel some semblance
of prettiness, standing on tiptoes
I can feel the coarseness of your skin
and I am sharp angular curves
that seem to soften, I become convex
in the complexities of us.

You tell me pretty things and longed for lies
and slyly I will take your hand
as skipping we throw stones of caution
and my heart just boomerangs straight back to you,
somehow you say, I have to be beautiful
that being gorgeous is just not enough
and I laugh and laugh at your words
and take my ugly slash of a mouth
and redden it with the sores of us
as scores of tunes have been written and sung
and planets realigned and mapped
we have history and cartology,
perhaps for a day I can be beautiful for you.



Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 684 times
Written on 2016-01-05 at 20:39

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You of course are already beautiful:)
I like the way you wrote this .... I find it very generous and soothing:)
2016-01-10


Ivan R
To my knowledge, beauty is always true, and when someone says that about another, then Yes is the right way to go, the thing to say because beauty is in everyone, in everything, everywhere, so say yes to beauty found, in you and elsewhere*
2016-01-08


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
As one who is in the middle of such right now, I can tell you this: you are most beautiful because you are seen that way.
2016-01-06


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i'm betting you can do it.
2016-01-05