He finds me Beautiful

A tarred soul.
I wring it out, it drips of guilt
Making dark patches on the floor of time.
Patches that take the shapes of Devils.
In its grey silhouette,
He says Black is in.
He finds me beautiful.

A subtle smile.
It once was a careless laugh
Uprooted and moulded
Cooked to serve the sophisticated.
In its dying spirit
He says it gives life.
He finds me beautiful.

The silent eyes.
Kohled with tacit sins
Witnessed over the years.
Sins that remain unspoken,
Unpunished and Celebrated.
In their shameless gleam
He says they tell stories.
He finds me beautiful.