A Thing Too Beautiful

Sometimes I don't want to see a thing too beautiful. I've been taking my beauty in pieces lately, like nibbles on a cookie with afternoon tea. Once upon a time I'd hurl the whole tea down my throat, inhale the cookie, and go charging out the door. Crocodilian. But it has a strange way, with the years, of changing things beneath your skin...a little, a very little, so maybe no one notices but you. Then one day you wake up and your body rebels at the concept of throwing back the tea. Your body rebels at the large bite, at the rushedness of things. And it's all too much at once; it's a poison in high doses. Go slow. The world outside your door will wait, so sit there for a while, a little while, at your table, taking in the light...