Pretense of Perfection




The speck of black hung tight

The smooth white engulfed it

Mounting itself like a parasite it grew

Crawling seamlessly into the milky sands




Barely visible to the naive eye

It established it's comfortable position

It came to be accepted as an imperfection

Living under the great white shadow




The little black eye began to open

Drawing attention of the admirers

Black against white was beautiful they said

Unaware of the pregnant darkness




The speck became a dark moon 

Glistening in it's glory 

The white waned to become pallid 

Perfection was tainted 




A mask was pressed onto the tarnish

The pretense was charming

Yet the dark eye blinked 

Dimming the light to a flicker


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