Beauty
a hunched and squeaking thing
stalking you from mirror’s edge. perching
with slender spider legs and teeth. blinding
white and fragile as
eggshells. clicking
it’s tongue behind the light-bulbs. whispering
low and quiet threats into your ear. it appears
naked and honest, to the not-perceiving eye. smiling
underneath the heavy shawl
of human thought, human skin
This poem is about:
Me
My community