Poem: The Perfect Look

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 Every day she wakes

the routine is always the same.
A bath with rose water
the latest trend for
silky soft locks.
A closet full of fashion:
which face shall I show
to the world today?
An hour in front of the mirror
sculpting and shaping
features and personality
transforming in front of
her long lashed eyes.
Every strand perfectly coiffed
every stitch in correct order.
Color coordinated
as precise as the oils
of a Renaissance painter
with a finicky patron.
To be the talk of the circle
To be the gossip of the town.
A distraction of the empty life.
Style over substance.

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