A tainted vison of beauty: All that glitters ain’t gold

I came to Southern with the gullible notion that there were diamonds, rubies, and emeralds scattered amongst the abundant thorns, thistles, and rocks.
In the midst of all the tumultuous “p-poppin’”, “hot girl” thunder was my complementary mellow serenity. My precious jewel. Somewhere in this worldly, “video vixen” grab bag stood that modest, virtuous woman that the author of the Book of Proverbs described. Purity personified in a female. Day after day after day I made the same wish, and one day, she appeared.
She was a vision of perfected pulchritude, a beauty that defied description. And she sat right across from me in class. Immediately I was bedazzled by her radiant, brown complexion. Her skin looked smoother than silk. It was more like poured milk into an hourglass. Her face was a rich blend of Ashanti and Jada, with a couple of tablespoons of Halle and just a hint of Vivica. Unlike many of the female bodies that I’ve noticed on this campus, she was modestly clad from head to those juicy berries she used as toes. Her apparel gave a slight suggestion of sensuality that aroused me as well as left everything to my imagination.
My eyes were her captives. As I noticed her curvaceous angles, I asked my “self” how much more gorgeous are the angels in Heaven? Clearly, she would be my distraction that semester as I struggled to focus my attention on the lecture and bottle up a sample of her beauty to take with me for later to daydream about. I just couldn’t help staring at her, hoping that our eyes would connect for one second. All I needed was one glimpse so that I could telepathically convey my feelings into her mind and occupy just one of her thoughts.
Then she turned and noticed me noticing her, and smiled. Her smile filled me with visions of fields of blossoming roses and jasmine and Glover basking underneath the azure.
For me, time paused as she turned to one of her friends and began to speak. I braced my “self” to hear the sweet melody of her voice. But to my sadness, there was no sweet music. The words that I heard come from her mouth shattered each and every one of the thoughts I had just had like a glass vase on a hard floor.
“She knows I’m a b#*$h,” I heard her exclaim. “F— HER!” As I sat and listened to the barrage of profanities that followed, I became disheartened by the fact that what I thought was a diamond in the ruff was only a stone. My vision of beauty had been tainted.
Then I thought about all the profanity I hear come from the mouths of some of the most beautiful creatures on God’s green Earth as I walk this campus and I remember what my mom used to say. Everything that looks like sugar isn’t sweet.