And darling, she is art.

The way she carries herself.

She is unconfined and flawless.

She looks like she hides

subtle mysteries in her heart.


She makes her own rules

and breaks them to create new.

She is understood by a few

because she believes in I, not you.


She is beauty, 

the creator and the creation.

She is the society

and she is the universe.

She is the creator of her own world. 

She adheres to nobody’s domination.


Her face, her gestures,

her bodily features

are sights

to capture

with naked eyes

and innocent mind

because they are divine.


She walks like art, 

with authority and authenticity

(only she knows what they are).

Her thoughts are apart

and above from the filth of humanity.

She talks smart,

not thought of to be

but, indeed, 

in the true sense of sanity. 


She is herself

but everybody else.

She shares

smiles and sense.


She is a mirror 

who everybody fears

to see their reflection in

but she, just by being,

as outside as within

with pride in her eyes

spreads art wherever she travels

and peels off the labels

as soon as someone

throws them on her in jealousy

to hinder her independence.

She defines her labels

to define who she is

and say things as they are

because darling, she is art.





She Is Art

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