What is beauty?  Personality?  Flash?  Flesh?  
Limbs and legs and mounds, the way one is composed?

A nose, a mouth, hair short or long, none at all?
Is beauty the way you came from the womb and grew?

Purity is beauty to some, but others markup their skin,
And it is their beauty, drawn in lines of ink.

Or, can we be beauty personified?  Perhaps in how we love?
I am told that I am attractive, pretty, some say, "Beautiful."

When I am dead and just so much dust or ash,
I don't want my life summed up by a fleshly container.

Please say, "She was a beautiful person in her love."