Hidden Beauty

 She was dumpy
With a complexion
Of melted candle tallow.
Polio limp and sad  eyes.
You took what you could get
In those days.

My door had hardly shut
When she discarded upper garments.
Astonishment.
The most perfect breasts
I had ever seen and, if memory’s true
The most beautiful I was ever to see
In photo., flesh or painting.

An exquisite deviation from hyperbolas
No mathematician could define.
The texture on a delicious cusp
Between soft and firm.
Nipples in complete harmony
With the whole.

She smiled and wept
At my spontaneous admiration.
Then removed her lower clothes.
That was the price of appreciation
In those days.