The Great Manufacturer

Hours of searching

for treatments

and my hair is still


white and old,

my shape is still full

round and soft,

my eyes are heavy

swollen and dark;

my mind is a wandering

mass of curiosity

with no promise

to be kept by any maker

other than the one

that gave me this body

-what a funny god

who allows ruin to be as

inevitable as beauty is fleeting.

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