I'm the asymmetrical beauty.
Ordinary beauty is a matter of faces,
a matter of grace
where feet stand in places
and balance and weight.
I'm as balanced as a kite
-not at all- I just float
with my head over the ceiling
and one hand on the floor.
I'm the upside-down beauty,
the inside-out beauty,
I'm the mystery of lightning:
fast bright delicate
BUT LOUD.
Someone told me I must make up my mind
<<You can't be ice and fire
sky and ocean
black and white>>.
And nobody knows this haunted beauty,
the one that's oblique,
the one that walks diagonally,
grey side of the world.
Nobody knows the pleasure in a bite:
they dream of preys being caught and suffocated
while I'm here
in my unfinished undefined grace
where bruises are sweet juicy plums
and my heart is dealing with scars.
I'm the asymmetrical beauty.
