Imperfect Perfect Poem by Tara Hills

He watched her
From where he sat
With his friends
He had seen her
Several times
She was perfect;
In her books
Peaceful concentration,
Euratys in her poetry;
She was cold
And lonely
In a crowd,
The snow girl-delicate;
With her friends,
She was springtime
Comfortable, fresh;
But
At that moment
She was not
All her charm
Hidden
By the lies
They claim is beauty
His friends sit
Entranced by this
But he stands
And follows advise
Her sister gave
His heart pounds
He takes a breath
Trips over his tongue
And tells her
As she watches
Her eyes
Widen
She smiles
New courage comes
Slowly he moves
Ruins the hairstyle
Brushes away the powder
And smiles
As her beauty
Shines through,
Perfect.