Beauty.

Beauty,
I do detest in all your base glory. All pregnant eyes
and barren possibility.
All falsehood cultivated like the aspidistra
and honesty,
burnt from your lips,
has no place in the roles you play.

A whore, beauty, that’s how I see you,
all pleasure tinged with guilt,
joy with shame, and my
voyeuristic tendencies are made to tamely dance,
to parade, some Red display,
for fear of the dogs.
The dogs owned by you, Beauty,
Bitch,
Beauty,
Bitch.

My enjoyment is my own, Beauty,
record what you will.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s