There is an ugly shade in beauty. A sphere of isolated darkened light and fragrance of imperfect enlightenment. There is an unhealthy rawness running through my veins sometimes, spewing into the earth from whence it came.
There are dusty rains in every season, a cough in every prayer, silent reckoning that “this concealling membrane is the finest of the whole and holy lot”.
Sometimes, I’m persuaded that the definition of “ugly” or “beautiful” are subject to standards beyond our humanity and that “ugly” might simply be beauty if we glance at it indepthly. That there is neither ugliness and beauty and that all of these are forms we take which may or may not please or attain a desiring pleasure which the CREATOR has set before the universe.
There is an ugly strand in my beauty but there is beauty in my ugliness. I have found that balance.