Natural… Becomes You

Natural…

It becomes you, my dear.

The hair.

There’s so much of it, or so little, up there.

The body.

All kinds of mature– apples or pears.

(I know. I’m missing other comparisons;

But honestly, we’re not simply fruit or basic geometry.)

The face.

Lines that meander, you either love or despair.

The life.

The spaces filled or worn with care.

There is no surgery for one less lived.

Use those hours sparingly

For the veil of cosmetics.

Natural…

It becomes you, my dear.

– C. Green

Natural

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