Her platform heels, purple blazer, and properly tailored pants
Promptly part hordes of pitiable people praying for her glance.
Her precisely placed hair pulled taught against her plain yet prided skin
Pricks the hearts of spineless pests who practice lives of sin.
Her pearly whites so precious they would blind the naked eye
Put priceless polished pearls to shame with a predatory smile.
Her prickly persona is part of her appeal
Providing packs of pillagers with a pithy girl to steal.
She paints her perfect features with a stiff, persuasive brush
Perplexing pensive imbeciles who prefer to see her blush.
She preaches beauty proudly; plucking, pinching, pinned for show
Proving what she possesses is attainable yet faux.
She punctures every poet to ever cross her path
Peeling their protections back and avoiding aftermath.
She plays with hearts to pointless ends and artists pay the price
Passionately pretending to have peered into her life.
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Comments1
if only onions, had words
and people, had more layers...
(found these
to be a thorough portrait
of abstracted awareness;
when 'I', is the all-consuming
word in our anxiety tainted
horizons)
a great write, thanks for sharing
and Happy New Year!
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