They gather apart
from the desks, in a
deeply knitted assemble,
held together by strain
And ardor. They are
acclaimed- they strut
past, feathers sprawled
with subtle beams.
Flowered perfume and
chestnut soap fills the
hallway, as waning eyes
scrutinize the arrangements.
For a moment,
the air is obscured
as a girl
lowers her eyes
at the curly hair and
glasses, with braced mouth
and pudgy face
and flyaway lips.
The music- the allurement
of the metal
and riffs
whispers the unknown, the
unattainable.
In a fairytale, no
beauty
is undiscovered- we are told
we are beautiful,
but if everyone is beauteous,
who
is eminent?

If she waits
long
enough- if the stars
single their gaze,
she knows the time will come.
God will
place her
if no one else
will.