No7 Mascara
And breasts are implants.
Enough beauty here to send no one in a trance.
A layer thick of foundation.
Your lips are a colour celebration.
Nipple tassles
Skin is hassled,
By tons of powder
And your hair is soft as fur.
Dyed a rich ruby red.
Round your a eyes is a thread,
Of eyeliner, than silk it is finer.
Piercing all over.
You face you did cover,
With makeup.
SO NOT PRETTY
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