the world is changed

i. because you are made of ivory and gold

For all intents and purposes, you are beautiful, and you are fleeting.

ii. the curves of your lips

I want to reach inside your skin, and tug at your veins, and pull, and pull, until I have them wrapped around my wrist like a bracelet made of you. I want to choke you, only so I could tap the beats back into your pulse. It isn't selfish, it's dangerously beautiful. Lethal, and murderous, but it would be a gorgeous scene.

I am a chaser of beauty, and you are a human skyline. Your eyes are streetlights, your neck is a highway, your body is the world, and all its glitter, and all its grime. Your bones are piano keys that I want my fingers to pirouette on.

You are as singular as your fingerprints. Planets, and storybook characters, and strangers that last for seconds cannot hold a candle to you. You blink, and all the world goes dark.

You are the king of the anthills, and the real hills, and the fields beyond, and the forests, and the big cities that swallow you up, and all the clocks, and peacocks, and leather, and faux fur. King of spotlights, and flowy dresses, and well-written books, and meaningless art, and Taylor guitars, and accidental spill sunshine coffee-stains. King of Manolo Blahnik heels, and Hermes bags, and bright-light Greenbelt, little floral bags, and cardigans. King of sound, and light, and space, and mass, and elegance.

You astound astronauts, and philosophers, and scientists. Mathematicians cannot compute your dimensions, or understand the numbers of you, the physics of you, the geometry of you, the planes of you. You influence musicians with your silence. You astound models with only skin and bones. Artists and photographers can never quite catch

you, and the lines of you

iii. rewrite history

(I only have praise for you, and all the wrong words.)

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The title of this post and the phrases in italics are from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.