Icing
upon cold death

piercing eyes
that know pain all too well

a voice
undeniable

soft, gentle
yet still finding an edge

you'll find it
you will

your lips
like peaches

each soft
and shimmering

I always wondered
how you could look in mirrors

and say you hate
that you hate what you see

though perhaps it's jealousy
that a mirror could hold it
an image of illustrious beauty

I always wondered
what it was

and I suppose
I always will.