I’m seeing those models,
All pretty faces and curves,
Like goddesses upon the screen,
And wonder how they do it,
What sorcery begets such angels,
The computer claims to know,
The beauty is simulated,
A conspiracy of tech and objectification,
A scalpel shaped like an arrow,
Pixilated nip and tuck,
It’s not real,
The screen mutates the image,
Warped for the male gaze
Imagined perfection,
At the click of a button.
