Reflections on Beauty

If a woman is beautiful and she does not believe it, is she still a beauty?
I have been told that I am beautiful, but that I do not know it,
as if this makes me more beautiful because of it.
But as I see it, beauty is only less than ugly
and when they say that I am beautiful,
all they mean is that am not offensive.
I am an object who is slightly more pleasing to look upon than other things,
and still less pleasing than other things.
This cannot possibly have significance.
And yet it is treated as if it means all the world,
And if I do not acknowledge my beauty it is a crime against humanity,
for the woman who disregards her beauty is subhuman.
I am convinced that I am average– I am not a beauty, nor am I offensive,
and so is everyone else.
If I reject this notion of beauty, am I not beautiful?
Will you look at me and see something besides?
Perhaps the woman who is not beautiful is the one who is the most.


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