Let Beauty Perish

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Let Beauty perish

Let her trickle down the drain

Suddenly expired

In the way of all flesh

Split open by flattery

Blistered under pressure

Let Beauty fall

For she is dead

And found in a pile

Behind the landfill

That you so frantically dug through

Searching for her

Let Beauty perish

Let her abdicate her throne

Let it be the headline

Let it be the spectacle

The one

She always yearned to be

Let dying Beauty keep

Let her breathe like a museum

So that I may forget her

Behind glass

Periodically admired

Periodically dismissed