Grown Up Problems
I’ve had rather a long season of beauty.
But I’ve never really known
What it was for,
Nor all about it.
It never sat well with me
When men threw around the B word
It made me feel inadequate
Like a sweater both wet and itchy.
I mean… Beauty.
You cannot grind it
To exploit it.
Procure the services of an enbalmer
Or a taxidermist.
You cannot bottle it.
It just is.
And so much so that my life’s resolution is
To have a beautiful old lady face.
But now I fear my season of beauty
Is coming to an end
Just when I need most to believe in it
In order to spend, this dubious genetic present
To perhaps, perchance…
Double the investment of it
Like Olivia, living divers of my looks
To the tapestry of the heroine of my life
Outside of books.
(© Copyright Pola Negri, 02/02/2017.)