A Tale Retold

She was more beautiful than anyone
He'd ever seen. Her bright blonde hair flowed back
Across her shoulders, brought forth the soft features
In her round, perfect face. Her eyes were black

In pools of blue, her body such perfection
Description fails. Her long, smooth legs flowed out
Beneath her skirt. Her calves and buttocks rose
Above her tall stilettos. There's no doubt --

A perfect woman. Then she glanced at him.
Her dainty smile lit her face. His heart
Leaped to his throat. He looked at her; she him.
She reached up, hand to hair, let out a fart.

Her hand slid to her purse. She lifted out
A cigarette and lit it in her mouth.
And somehow all her beauty disappeared --
He told himself his heart had drifted south.

He turned to walk away, his interest lost,
But still he glanced again back at her face
In time to see her belch into her hand --
And then his lust left him without a trace.

What had he seen in her to make him stare?
Her stringy hair, the tattoo on her arm,
Her legs too thin -- a woman not his type --
He much preferred true beauty, grace, and charm.