I pass her everyday,

always there,

always perfect.

But I'll never be like that.

I like to eat.

My skin is messed up.

There's bags under my eyes.

My lips blend wrong.

But there she is,

always there,

always perfect.

Her clothing hangs perfect,

no signs of sluggishness.

Her lips are crisp and ready to laugh.

Her jawline is defined.

There's not a single blemish on her skin.

Yes she is, everyday,

always there,

always perfect.

Well maybe if I just go inside, 

I could look like her?

If I wore the same clothing,

I would be that untainted.

So I do.

I go in and look around,

and there she is again.

And again.

And again.

And you can see her backside,

clips holding her clothing tight.

And you see,

she doesn't even fit.

And if they don't even fit her,

then there's nothing wrong with me.

I'm not a manniquinn,

she is,

always there,

always imperfect.

Just like me, and that's okay.