Curvaceous bursts of flourid stone Limpid fuel for vision moan Ashy smell of next day hair Fiery garnish syrup pear Beauty's meal will always feast Feeding eyes that make a beast Ponder not it's now we act Worry not 'bout wordy tact Across the corners there's a curve Mention names and lose the verve Glassy sphere makes circle square Ninety degrees to far off stare