when I look back,
I see how beauty made her smile.
the shape
of people.
the size, the weight,
the clothes one wore.
a superficial take on the world.
a house just so.
the perfect chair,
the perfect rose.
her hand always on her phone,
saying look,
scrolling through a hundred
photos,
look how beautiful these young
people are.
never once, saying how kind
or good they were.
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