I have fallen for the concept that is beauty.
I see it in the vintage light that masks photos.
Photos that I force myself to look at, overwhelming my delicate senses.
I don’t know what it is about beauty. It extends its long tendrils
Thorny, loving tendrils that capture you in a hug
And beckon you closer, closer.
And I stare at her ever-changing face;
Shifting from my talented senior to my classmate
To my older sister and my worst enemy.
They are beautiful.
And I am not. And will never be.

But Beauty releases me
Clutching, in her hand, an elixir of envy
And I begin to stir, and see
Why our – why my – perception of beauty has skewed so much.
Who sees the blemishes the photos hide?
Who sees the clothes that have been locked away in a drawer in the corner of the room?
Who sees the menace of the words the smiling lips have spat?
Who sees the ugliness masked by beauty?
Who wants to see the ugliness?

Beauty is a concept of age and tradition
And unspoken desire of human nature
Hushed on the lips of mothers preparing their daughters to be presented
Hushed on the lips of tightened corsets
Hushed on the lips of wistful glances through transparent boutique windows
History has shown how greedy, selfish, deceitful us beings can be
And beauty is not a topic that will change that.

I have fallen for the concept that is beauty,
And to me she extends that elixir.

Without thinking, I gratefully swallow.