Contrasts

Beautifully horrible.

Her lips curl up scathingly

as her words declare her scorn

for you with cruel intent,

and yet still she enchants you.

 

Regretfully satisfied.

Your fork hits the table

and your stomach hurts slightly

with too much abundance.

You shouldn’t have had that much.

 

Disgustingly lovely.

She sits curled in his lap,

in an intimate happiness,

and is revered and hated

By those that have it and want it.

 

Brutally compassionate.

He walks, head low, defeated

with a tiredly heavy stride

from the surgery room,

pulling off gloves in defeat.

 

Strangely normal.

His eyes are brown and

his face is so unassuming,

that he catches and keeps your eye

simply with the shade of his smile.

 

Unwaveringly hesitant.

She wishes to see the world,

and hopes for exotic places,

and yet the closest she will brave

is her bedroom window.

 

Massively minute.

She is young and small,

and unbelievably delicate,

the baby that is wrapped in your arms,

but she is the span of your world.

 

Contrasting compliments.

The small oxymorons of

the crazy world around us

that remind us to open our eyes

and to always be on our toes.