Beauty Paradox

My heart is ablaze. She has walked into the room.
Is it her extravagant black Jimmy Choo heels?
Or the way she carries herself that I battle to conclude who exudes the grace.
Could it be the way she did her hair today?
Or just her hairstylist who choose to endeavor to confuse me between reality and a dream?
They seem to be in the same lane.
She makes cotton seem like a song, a rhythmic hypnotic dance,
Full in kaleidoscope expression spread between colour, texture and depth.
Those ripples on it in her step, her every gesture.
If only heartbeats could be embroidered in clothing I ponder.
And I thought silk perfectly laid upon the feminine form was unforgettable, I do not know now….
Maybe the right expressive design combination can blow me away.
Emotion: passion, anger, joy, love.
So sought for in each material to make a statement they accomplish,
One she signs off very well.
Character: confident, free-spirited, humble.
They are written upon Gods earthly form.
One word they live behind I cannot say: Speechless.
In each clothing opportune moment she has written, blown my mind, and positively shocked me.
In the very minor details she has hugged my eyes, embedded me in her heart with her taste.
Could I be in love with her or just how she makes me feel in her wardrobe choices.
Truest sentences by her I have adored,
Truest pauses and continuations I have fallen for.
A beauty paradox I cannot deny.

By Tapuwa Mashangwa

%d bloggers like this: