You Are Beautiful. Poem by RIC BASTASA

white butterfly fluttering
and hovering one moment
to another moment,
to the flower of time,
sipping a little nectar
to wet its proboscis,
tasting sweetness and
then dying in another
minute,

in another parallel universe,
she goes from one mall to
another, windows shopping,
men, lots of men, tasting
each fluid muscle and
solid arms, and then dying
in another minute,

you are beautiful.

Her coffin is pink.
Her hair is fake.
Her face is reassembled.
Her body now filled with
noxious preservatives,
her mother attends
to guests who, a day
before despised her.