The sculptor grips her body

What she casts as a rough stone

Hes sees a blank slate of his own

Carving away the edges with his lips

Raking away the ugly that sits

Chisled hips dip deep  inside

Bringing human into lifeless eyes

Hands hold fast on last breath

Chipping away too far inside he confides

Impurities show deep and ugly he sighs

Forever leaving her half cast in stone

Mourning the sculptors warm hands on her cold skin

None will see beauty in her again