Looks

We all have a look. We all look around.

At work, on a date, when we’re out and about.

We look, they look, looks we wonder about.

Tall, skinny, thicker, scrawny; Jock, Twink, Bear, Daddy.

We look. What we aim see? The Million Dollar Question? The Zero Dollar Answer?

We look and look, but looks of one aren’t enough.

Too tall, too skinny, not thick enough, hips that touch too much.

Too pale, too tan, too red, too much bronzer; a look way too colorful.

Tattered jeans, a musty rock-band t-shirt, a button-up disaster.

Too much grunge, too little scruff; too much looks of everything. Never enough.

Looks one way, looks the other; this is what we do. Looks do matter.

The looks we give and the looks we take.

The looks that define how we go about our day.

The looks that come with a smile; the looks that come with a smirk betraying our carnal desires.

The looks we give, the looks we get, the looks we are forced to bare.

The looks we choose, the looks we get, the looks by which the world revolves.

The looks of a small world; tall, skinny, thicker, scrawny; Jock, Twink, Bear, Daddy. A small world made smaller with so many looks from seeming eye-candy.

The looks of it all; we want them all, we want them not at all.

The looks we want, the looks of nothing at all.

Looks of a Jock; looks of inadequacy.

Looks of a Twink; looks of necessity.

Looks of a Bear; looks of too much to bare.

Looks of a Daddy; Looks of the destructively uncanny.

Looks of destruction. We are a collective deconstruction.

Looks with no repair, Looks of undercover despair.

Looks.

Looks is what we have to give.

Looks is the ugliest thing we get.

We all have a look.

We will forever look with so little to get.