Or something like it,
The way she looked in the mirror
Disgusted,
Intently positioned in front of muddied waters and
Deadly foresight, the being that she once
Was no more, never was, beautiful.
On Tuesday she woke up, walked to the mirror,
Her hips swaying in sexual thirst for what,
The unknown,
And she smiled, fixed her hair in rhythmic
Syncopation with my heart, playing mandolins
When she breathed, beautiful.
Wednesday, she’s still obsessed with her atrocities
In the mirror, she sees the monsters under
Her bed at night, whispering, clawing
At her self-image, she never sees what I see,
The being that she once was forever,
Always will be, beautiful.
Saturday, and she took a break from her
Vain obsessions with the veins in her neck,
Disgusted,
She turns away, the sexual thirst in her hips
All but silenced, she looks at me,
I see a flower.
~ Kai Alexander Means
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