She looks amazing
Probably eighteen
But one of those
When she is sixty
She will still look
Eighteen or twenty
Natural beauty
Hair, makeup
No not makeup
No need
The contours
Of her face
Produce their
Own shades
And shadows
Especially
When she smiles
And no tattoos
She is happy
With the body
God gave her.
And she couldn't
Walk if she tried
She glides
As if someone
Is moving
The scenery
Around her
It's all perfect
Until she opens
Her mouth
To speak
To a friend
' F*  me!
What time
Do you call this?'