Beauty's Past
Location
Every girl was born with a face of porcelain
and heat of pedals.
Anyone can see that is beautiful,
without a male to announce it.
For science is gorgeous...
The beauty of science is
the science of beauty.
It is genetics that gave you those eyes.
Irises illuminated by the backdrop that seeps
into the middles like ink.
Small flecks that freeze in swirls,
sharp knifes of color descending inside for miles.
So much detail portrays a story
of tears shed for words and kisses.
It is the brain that holds your memories,
causing you to pass your food and health.
Causing your hands to jolt,
flashbacks flooding like a glass in a running sink.
Over and over again,
your mouth like burnt silk,
spiting lies at your memories
that you replace with your beauty.
Over and over again, your memories replaced
by your image
and all you do is scream and wait
for him.
It is your ears that hears my voice,
through the fog of skulking past.
They hear me tell you all i know,
and all i believe.
It is your brain that finally becomes tacit.
Finally you can see with your eyes,
hear with your ears,
and believe with your heart
what I said:
Science's most beautiful creation is you,
and no male needs to announce that.