Goddess of Eros, Aphrodite’s jealousy
Helen stands as a nemesis of old.
She stands on a societal pedestal
Immodest in her perfection.
Arched eyebrows, darkened hue skin
Symmetrical features, hourglass minuscule figure
Painted face, smooth flawlessness.
She is trapped in a filigree cage
Incarcerated in society’s constraints.
Her beauty is a jeweled Venetian mask
Unblemished in its fineness
Eventually faded under the work of Father Time’s fingers.
Why do you paints your eyes in black?
Why do you mark your cheeks in rogue?
Why the starvation? Why the designer clothes?
They call me ordinary; they call me blemished.
They do not call me a beautiful woman.
I see honeyed hair of gold, of raging wild fires
Dark like a raven’s wing, the color of smooth chocolate.
Eyes of aquamarines, emeralds, and amethysts
Skin of iridescent moonlight, of smooth creamy hazelnut
Rolling graceful sloping hips: mark of true womanhood.
I am an unrefined diamond in my exterior beauty
No glossy designs, no cascading hair, no painted mask
Free from constriction’s of society’s hold
I know to be imperfect is to be perfect.