Of marble and men.

 

A marble statue with warm eyes.

Rippled skin, flaunting the magnificence of the earth.

Imperfect veins that flow across a smooth body,

Carved to society’s exacting standards, this specimen of beauty

Draws the eyes and makes the heart yearn.

But for what? Beauty frozen in cold stone?

Rigid arms that cannot comfort?

A taunt chest without a heartbeat?

The biggest flaw in this perfect being

Is the inability to love.

 

 

The reluctant writer.

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