lo, and behold

Stemming from my original mission to create 365 poems. A culmination of years past and days present.


9 October 2005

46: those aryan girls

Hair sweet like honey, strolling through the forest.
Creating everything themselves, their own reality.
Painting stories on their nails,
knowing the difference between us and them.
Bathed in riches while knowing nothing of the sort.
Perfection was a lifestyle, we studied them for mistakes.
And we thought we couldn't find any.