She Has No Beauty

She was the perfect beauty They said in unison… But I don't believe in such rubbish.. So long as she does not fall upon me As a mysterious kite from the sky; I had stared into her eyes closely- And found no passion inside.. She is not a tigress I think And I don't like girls behaving As doves-flitting on beds-flapping Their egos and refuse to moan.. Beauty for me lives in a leaf- That gets brushed against my Youth as many times as I visit The garden with spades and sickles; Beauty for me hides in blade Of grass as cold dew that sends Passion up to my waist as I tread upon it unknowingly; She is no beauty so long as I can't get essence from her Armpits that she keeps tight for A night of her choice to open- May be waiting for her sixteenth spring.