Ordinary she said, the plain Jane of feminine.
I'll gladly take up with her.
There should not be a shimmer around my
crown. Nor lashes that drive men to wild.
There is not but one side for a woman of
my caliber to parade. Look at me over here.
Like you did yesterday, before I traded in
heels for flats, short skirts for long ankle dresses.
You will dream of a different woman.
She is the new era. Where the girls love
themselves willing as silverware.
I am passion in a bottle. The mistress naught whored.
As mirrors are satiated in secret praise.
My wishes are smoked out by the steam.
They fade deep into you.
Your sparkling compromise in mediocre view.