tapestries and the beautiful


tapestries & the beautiful

it's not art nouveau—

the meandering design

that captured my eyes

or is it the beautiful

that lets me trace illusion?

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Under the Knife



There's beauty!
Where? Beneath the flab,
Peel off the clothes,
Pull back the fat.
Reveal the gaunt and twisted thing
That dwelt beneath the ghastly skin.
Tie back the hair, reveal the face,
Beneath the gore resides our case,
The masterpiece we'll call our own;
The girl that hid within the crone.
Our eyes are sharp,
Our knives are keen,
She'll hardly even feel a thing as we
mold and sculpt beneath the skin.

And when we're done,
What pride she'll feel!
This face we give that isn't real
Will bless her with true love for life,
Until the Belle begins to fade,
And then once more she'll need our blade.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this poem a while ago, I've been working on it for a while. I haven't been to for nearly five years, I haven't been writing much at all... I'm hoping to change that, and posting this is the first step. :-) Critique desperately desired. :P

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