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

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