beauty

to look in the mirror,
to glimpse a form
caught in the eyes
of space and time,
to imagine a woman
with lines and curves
in the right places,
playing within rules,
and then breaking them
not to become,
but to be,
to feel where I begin
and end and blur,
to come face to face
with the question -
who am I?
to cut right through
skins untouched
and to the bones
that don't lie,
to see the worlds
lived in,
behind every story
named and held,
where the mirror
cracks and falls away,
leaving me struck
by the timeless beauty
of moments strung
and worn
on an enchanting evening
of a life,
brimming over
with a love for itself.