She does not strive to capture beauty
for far too much already
is imprisoned on their mantles and
in their lacquered frames or
between the dusty pages lining shelves
which hide that which weeps
behind glossy covers
for far too much already
has been raped and shamed hanging
naked from their walls
all that stood glorious holds
its breath refusing to die by
their lusting hands
and she cannot rest
until beauty sets her
Free