What, who, when, why?
We see them, we are inspired, we see the attire, we search for the pieces.
The pages remain unseen by the light that twinkles in your eyes. The sound turns into a melody and the nostalgia of yesterday shows on the worn tape.
We see the desperation, the longing, yearning not yawning at the very distraction our eyes guide us towards. The desire grows and as a child's mind wanders the streets become a known address.
We smile at the mask and shy from the cleanser, we buy the foundation and let our bodies sit under the water as the birds bathe in the fountains beside us, the heat is burning, the wind giving us no relief of the perfect setting if only not sprayed.
Morphie, or metamorphosis, are they not the same? our evenings spent like leonardo atop his M3, currency used as we too spend such currency on an appearance that is only to allow for our own true selves to truly disappear, a mask or war paint?
For the battle in which all women face is that of beauty, a currency dating back to times luke roberts made look like Peace, Love & Juicy Couture for the fruits of the labor adorn the skin alike the silk that caressed jesus’ feet for such luxury is considered to be dimensional no more than 2.
As act 3 commences in our infamous play so does the cards dealt as the jackpot nears, the luck is a religion and prayers are sent.
You've got mail Bruce Nolan re-lives a time where his idol became an idealism in which he allowed into an existence that only a character of one could fit.
The whole created, the universe swallowed, black but somehow darker, for light is something only seen in the shimmer of his eyes.
He smiles, his perfect teeth encased by lips that use words to soothe, to calm, to trust.
Beauty beyond the lens, ideas deeper than appearance, yet was it not the cover that had me stop, flourish and Blotts most enchanting of all.
A complicated simplicity this world gives me is that the longer you read, write and dictate the Umbridge's Black Quill transcribes and as the world of magic, of fairy tale commences “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.
Will we let go of the idealisms?
Will we let go of the idols?
Will we finally allow for our own minds, bodies and souls to entwine to create the life we must truly deserve?
Only you can decide your fate, the equalizer or are you the answer to the equation?
