when i think of the word
beauty
i think of
the canvas of your skin painted with
every little freckle
every nostalgic bruise,
the galaxies inside your bones,
the celestial bodies glimmering in your eyes
your curving lips that hinted
a smile brighter than a multitude of stars
your voice softer
than the french crooners we listen to
every gloomy evening
when i think of the word
beauty
i think of no more but you
and the cosmos that hid under your skin
and how i am merely an wonderer
and you are an entire world to explore.

my mother told me that
I was nothing but a nymphet,
young, frail and beautiful
with lips tinted with the colour of a rosy floret

my mother told me that
I had turned into a goddess ever so divine
young, shrewd and elegant
with lips tinted with the colour of red wine

my mother told me that
I was a rose that bloomed ever so gracefully
for once I was the damsel in the distress
that became the damsel in the scarlet dress.

the arms of the sea they took me in
water kissing my skin
in the eyes of god i am just a sin
forgive me, my kith and kin

for i would die above the seabed
buried in the water, my body long dead
no words left to be said
for lies would escape my mouth instead

these sorrows they are ceaseless
and i admit i am weak and never dauntless
for i manifest my soul's darkness
for i lived a life full of recklessness

on sundown i had drowned
as the last few breaths perished
my unspoken grief had suddenly withered
and came the happiness of the afterlife i had long awaited.