The only beauty treatment I believe in is an
eye-crinkling smile, no lather of face cream
& lipstick conceals ugly facial expressions;
spying myself frowning reminds me that we
will die with the face we have crafted in the
character we created with those dreams in
our minds and the feelings we cherished -
Memories we’ve treasured - souvenirs that
pray the hope of love will be sustaining like
cash my daughter left in my handbag, she
knows of my credit-card payback project -
and tells me I have good legs; her figure &
face are those of a pixie or beautiful angel,
varying with her quicksilver moods - such
Memories will endure: like my son saying
he likes my self-created hair-style, it can’t
get any better than this yet it did when my
beloved asserted he saw I lost weight and
it feels overpowering - may these dreams
float us through life on a stream of love-
never-ending forever…
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