Beauty is a quiet, long, clean line–
the thin angle of your nose or your
hip, hip, hooray, so small compared with
collar and rib, so fully compact.
Beauty is short, loud, and curvy–
the smell of my perfume hitting you,
a celebration of width and fullness,
shoulders, breasts, wasting away.
Beauty is bold, brash, and calm–
the tongue-taste of summer wine and
somber kisses, the succinctness of sense:
smoky along the line of your lips.