Beauty, Like Most Things, Is Subjective
Beauty, like most things, is subjective
Some people prefer a statue, marble,
Crafted at the enervation of the sculptor.
Others prefer smoke, thin and intangible,
Dancing in plumes to an atonal rhythm.
Call me crazy, but I prefer neither.
I admire you in your skin in clothes
Shorts and a tank-top, as you move
So exotically your hips to a drum in time.
However I don't find beauty in arousal,
Yet in a connection seen in eyes,
Held in hands, and know, I find
Large amounts of beauty in you
I could sit with you and die.
As we all do now, sad and alone, yet
As soon as proximity is reached
Between us, dying becomes more.
It becomes the tobacco between
The fire at a cigarettes tip,
And the filter, that sweet sin
That has so enticed you before.
However, that's just me,
As beauty is subjective.
Copyright © Andrew Pierce | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment