Growing

If lust is all the same
Then all the fine dames
Captured in my mind's eye
Would never fair the better.

So why the chase for the pure aesthetics?
The only metric measured
Never amounted much to me
I see,
Beauty all around me
And I'm expected to focus only on Miss America?
A curse
What about all the contestants vying for Miss universe?

I must remain biased
Never exploring the depths of that lovely pond
I respond
To their solicitation in kind,
Keeping in mind shallow waters are easily disturbed..

Beauty nestles itself in our possibilities.
Being impossible to capture in its purest form,
For once torn and born into a reality
It loses its luster and we must accept
"What is" and not,
"What we want."

Sigh, to grow up...