Beauty & the Beast

The rhythmic dance of her aesthetical embodiment attracting condemnable men, the strenuous attempt to become unbound like the fetus of the womb, she wishes to become something like she was in the past. What a beauty, an undeniable kind of beauty. So invigorating to say the least. But that incomparable beauty transformed into the beast. An aphotic being, tenebrous physique, slender and sleek. Subdued by immortal actuality. She doesn’t love you, she doesn’t love her. And you? You fell in love with what you thought she’d become. You too did substandardly succumb to her inevitable beauty. Now in the presence of a beast, our mind a perplex labyrinth because that exquisite, graceful beauty, that delightful and tasteful beast you never knew you loved has trapped you in a corner and what will you do? When like a leach from your blood has sucked the virtuousness from you? Your astounding beauty, inner beauty now wretched and released. An obscure beauty, now an inhibited beast.