Perception of Beauty

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Her nimble fingers curl.

They clutch the width

of her waist, so gaunt

that it struggles

to hold to her

bones.

Her eyebrows furrow,

brown eyes focus

on the reflection

of perfection

standing inside

a tarnished mirror.

Her glossed lips part, murmuring

an ugly word.

“Fat.”

The note is ear-splitting.

My head shakes

and I begin

to speak out

loud, “Girl,

how dare you

let yourself

be defined

by a flimsy sheet of glass?”

She says nothing, brushing

past my shoulder,

deaf to the noise

of all who try

to convince her of her worth.





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