Each woman is a jumble sale

a riotous clash of

obsolete cassettes

that hold nostalgic value

holey socks and too-small

suede jackets that would look good

if only…if her body were…

(still, the thought of looking fly in it

was worth every penny.)

And you, male browser,

scanning through her

chipped gravy boats

scuffed pumps

retro plastic sunglasses

that still make her grin to wear them

– but really, how much cargo

can this camel lug around? –

you, oh male peruser,

have the choice whether to scorn

her history of bad taste and saunter

off in search of more impressive tat

or

to riffle patiently through her EPs

and cheesy paperbacks

(remembering that this is just the junk

she’s willing to show the public)

and chance upon that rare 1880s

engraved silver compass

she was always looking for

someone to give to

and the glow in your eyes

appreciating it

turns all the trinkets into treasure

at the feet of a queen.

Don’t you see, oh male desirer?

It is your admiration

that draws out her beauty.

She see your delight

and opens the box

hidden under the foldout table

full of more wondrous things

the ones she didn’t want to muddle up

with the broken fake Rolexes.

Don’t you see, oh male

seeker of the sublime?

She embodies it

when she feels your awed gaze

lighting her up in a corona.

Just as He said,

“I am in the opinion of My servant”,

want only this Beauty

and she will dazzle you with it.

Love her

and she will give you

reason to.