She Watches
She watches
you in the dressing room mirror,
suck in you stomach.
She sees you frown
as she sits on the ground,
playing with her tiny shoes.
She watches
as you primp and tuck,
crimp and stuff
and call yourself ugly.
She watches
when you receive complements
and shake your head,
refusing to agree
that you are pretty in so many ways.
She watches.
And she learns.
And all those years of watching earned,
she hates her reflection.
You tell her
she’s flawless,
and she’ll fake a smile,
knowing all the while
that a woman
is supposed to find
the beauty in everyone
but herself.
All your compliments
She won’t believe
as she primps and tucks,
crimps and stuffs.
Her tiny shoes long ago
packed and sealed.
She barrows your old pair of heels.