Don’t look at me
I am not to be desired
What you see as perfection
Is no more than the organic creation of nature
I am blemished
Though it is hidden from you
This body struggles to keep this posture
That you so worship
Let this body rest
I can feel the muscles aching
The hand is shaking
She wants no more
Don’t look at me
though I am as white as powder
this is not a sign of good health
Let us out of this dress
I can feel the lungs screaming
As the mouth takes small gasps of breath
She is not a statue
She is not your figurehead
Madame X by John Singer Sargent, 1884