The universal vision of sexuality
Perversely moulded for dreams
Of the advertiser.
The body beautiful, smooth so perfect,
Luring us into states of inadequacy,
Fear of our incomplete selves.
The admiration of those around us,
The tireless vocation to make ourselves
Just like them the Gods of love,
The beauty within to take second place.
Stylised sex, designer meat,
No sweat no pain,
No mess upon hot sheets of lust.
Flowing; beautiful,
An art executed so smooth, so controlled.
Upon ourselves, our gaze befalls
Of all our imperfections.
Where is perfection,
How do I attain?
No control is where our beauty lies,
Surprise and pleasure,
To let go of fashion to perform our art,
For art it is.
Not find ourselves in awkward efforts
To avoid unwanted embarrassment.
Thank you S. Stefan Karabacak for giving my words a platform here at
a Few Words… Thank you all for reading. J.
