A Beatiful Mutant
My body, like the goods inferior in quality,
has small eyes,
and the face all covered with freckles,
acnes and liver spots.
Naturally flowing long hairs with no perm and S-shaped body,
the styles passionately acclaimed by men, have nothing to do with me.
My body is an aggregate of many defects
such as squarer shoulders than those of other women,
protuberant potbelly, somewhat stumpy ankle, and others.
The body of course has some merits including elegantly flowing beautiful line of legs,
seductive smiles brimming with vitality,
exquisitely jutting chin,
and sexily protrudent collarbones beneath the neck.
At the moment when the camera meets part of my body
and when its angle captures my body,
I remain completely emancipated from such inferior complex?
A blending of rather awkward composites
and abnormal defects appears to be also beautiful?