Old draft of a prose long since changed. Thought I'd share the original. I never wrote the date on this piece, but I know its from Summer 2007. This is actually from the sketchbook and I later made into a Sastina, currently waiting to be published. :)
Sketch: Beauty's Art Gallery
She wore her lovers like an art gallery showing me each portrait she took. Her fingers rubbing the matt finish, she had only one thing to say, her voice a soft coil bouncing, “Look how pretty.” Over and over, the glistening brightness of lovers capture in a moment, her portfolio of experience. She catalogued them all under beautiful, a priceless collection of aesthetics, her two-dimensional homage to love. A tribute to how beauty finds her, I couldn’t help but want to scratch below the surface. Flecking the sheen, it was so brittle, exposing conflict without much resolution. Though her lovers were beautiful, the relationship wore an ugly tinge, and as I walked her art gallery, her master pieces became copies of the same theme – Venus could have lived among those walls and all I could see was her master piece to her insecurity.