Glossy eyed and plasticly smiled, one with flushed cheeks combs hair into piles. One renovates nose and pins back ears. One replaces vision for a more wicked stare. Like there’s no space, she tries to fit in at school. She never understood that it all resides in you. We don’t play around and she must look sharp, but you don’t know how deep it cuts right into her arm. Reluctant to grow out of phases, she learns that her face needs no changes. She forms her own sense of beauty. People see her and they do study. She becomes the next fashion sense, and a new girl repeats the whole process again.