The beautiful Aphrodite
A brush of foundation
paints over her spotted face,
a streak of contour
sharpens her too round cheeks
a stroke of eye shadow
brigthens her dull eyes as
a smear of lipstick
colorize her pale lips.
As she stares at her work of art
she raises the can
and sets the mask on her grotesque face.
For she is beauty.
She is Aphrodite.
This poem is about:
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: