I will undress your soul

Beauty

Beauty

Jane sat down in front of her laptop with a cup of coffee on the table, and she got ready to start typing. She thought for a moment. She didn't know how to begin. She wanted to write a poem about beauty. That's what she had in mind when she decided to write a poem. Jane remembered her conversation with Maura the previous day, which had inspired her to write a poem exactly on that specific topic.

The previous day...

"Jane, will you still love me if I get fat?" Maura asked, seeming in a deep thought. She blurted it out of nowhere.

"Yes," Jane answered automatically, without even thinking about it for a second. She knew better than that.

"I mean really fat, Jane... Huge... Ginormous."

"Yes, Maura. I don't care how you look."

"What if I don't have legs or hands? Or if I lose my head or other vital part of my body? Will you still love me then?"

"Your head? Really Maura? I don't think that's possible. You can't live without a head, Maura, don't be ridiculous. You should know that."

"So you're saying you won't love me without a head?"

"Of course not, Maura. Because you'll be dead."

"Jane!"

"What? I am joking, Maura."

"So you won't love me after I die?" Maura pouted after she asked Jane.

"Maura, where's that coming from? Are you sick or something?"

"No."

"Well, you certainly sound like it. Do you have high temperature? Have you smoked something?"

"No. Of course not. I just thought that looks matters to you, Jane."

"Of course it matters. I fell in love with you for your look and your beauty. And maybe your ass," Jane looked Maura's ass checking her out, smirking. Then she looked at her chest suggestively, "And your t-"

"Don't!" Maura cut her off, seeing Jane's face and the direction she was looking at.

"Talents. I was going to say talents. Your many talents, Maura."

"Pfft! I know what you meant to say, Jane." Maura said, rolling her eyes at Jane's sense of humor. "But I won't look the same when I get old. Will you still like me when I get breast ptosis?"

"Eww! What is that? And is it curable?"

"No. It's not." Maura retorted and laughed at Jane's silly reaction. "It means saggy breasts, Jane."

"Oh, good. Don't freak me out, Maura. I thought that this is some serious disease." 

Maura laughed at Jane's silly statement.

"Of course I will love you, Maura. I love you and I always will. Unconditionally."

"You say it, but you don't mean it."

"Oh, really? Because I can prove it to you, Maura. Multiple times at that." She smirked at Maura, looking playfully at her. Maura couldn't help but laugh.

Jane smiled at the memory of the previous day, and then she thought about what beauty means to her. After that, she started typing.

Beauty

What exactly is beauty?

Can you buy beauty with money?

Can you trade beauty for brains?

That sounds kind of funny...

What makes one person beautiful?

His clothes, the way he dresses?

His height? The color of his eyes? His looks?

Or perhaps the confidence he possesses?

If you erase your make up, take your clothes off,

will your beauty fade away?

Is beauty measured by how you look,

and is that the only possible way?

If you take everything that is shallow away,

you'll have one naked soul. And you'll find out

that physical appearance doesn't matter at all,

and it's not what beauty is all about.

After Jane typed the poem and read it to herself, she decided to share it with Maura. After all she was the inspiration for it. She read her poem to Maura out loud, eager to hear her opinion.

"It's beautiful, Jane."

"You like it?"

"I love it. You should do it all the time. You should write more often."

"You are right. I should quit my job and become a writer."

"That's not necessary," Maura answered, thinking that Jane really meant it. She still couldn't understand her sarcasm.

"If someone should be a writer it has to be you, Maura. After all, your beautiful poem made me write you in a first place."

AN: If you like my poetry, you could check out the poems in my profile and see the rest of them. Your feedback is always appreciated.