you're a real knock-out. drop dead. pretty poster stuck up to a wall. best to make hay while the sun shines. you havent even considered botox, yet. if you've got it, flaunt it. shake it. sell it. give it away when the market goes soft. gaurd it jealously with jealousy, and garner compliments to apply as needed.

in every department store window you watch your reflection. mannequins stare back in imitation of your expression. the recorder in your throat repeats all the right things. you're an angel on home-made wings. you're a glittering standard of your sex. glowing. sparkling. well-rehearsed. well-versed at barstool pick-up lines. men pass through your room like boxcars through a small town. one after another.

you're real a-list. top notch. rarely a repeat customer. you only live once. live it. breath it. fuck it. and keep going around. fill up on the empty calories of attraction. until you're fat. old. and out of fashion. until your appeal sags and wrinkles beyond the long arm of plastic surgery. until you wish you hadnt.