It had to happen this way, that you
would become beautiful, finally do
something about your eyebrows or
the hair on your upper lip. Eventually,
you learn these things — the ways
in which you’re all wrong, and that
it’s easier to fix yourself than to
try to fix the world, make the world
more kind, open its eyes to anything it
does not already see. Who wore it
best? You did — or you hope to,
someday, when you’re living a
tabloid life, free from tabloid
judgment. Only sunny honeymoons
for you — only toned abs, lean legs,
millions of white teeth in Aruba,
Ibiza, or anywhere else you’ll go
to be measured, judged, found to be
(at last) in substantial compliance
with the only law that matters.