The alien beauty of a six-foot girl
with shoulders, clavicle, hipbones sharp
and scary-angled as metal hangers—
Her looming beauty belongs on a stage in a tent.
She is meant to be gawked at and photographed.
But in daylight, amongst the other humans,
she is a fugitive, foreign, dangerous.
Today I read your poem before I looked at the Sartorialist photo. It was great to get your word picture before the photo.
ReplyDeleteLove the line: "looming beauty belongs on a stage in a tent." Your words are as perfectly pointed as all of the right angles of her ensemble.
She feels surreal.
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