Силикон

In the mirror, a goddess from a glossy magazine: lips as if drawn by a confectioner, breasts like balloons under her pyjamas, and a waist that dances to the rhythm of the beat. Eyes linger, suitors make plans, girlfriends are jealous, and the lads in the group just laugh. Because behind all this bright window dressing is emptiness made of silicone and cosmetics. Beauty seems to be whole, but for some reason there is less and less of a person in it.