if art is in the name of beauty,
where does that leave the morals?
if “‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,'”
where does that leave the liars?
if beauty is known,
where does that leave the unknown?
if beauty is found,
where does that leave the lost? the wandering?
and if it’s lost,
what does that say about the found?
if beauty is for the youth,
why do the old still see the sunset?
why do they continue smiling?
why do they buy flowers, drink rosé, kiss in the dark and in the light?
and if beauty isn’t real, a creation a farce
simply another construct in a natural world already heavy enough for most,
what does that say about us?