Dents

I will always to speak to a child

The way my mother spoke to me.

There is something empowering about loving yourself

Your body is a vessel that carries you from seashore to seashore

Picking up shark tooth crowns to rest upon your one-of-a kind skull

With its perfect dents that separate you from a crowd.

Like freshly formed snowflakes that fall from clouds

Into the mouths of little girls who will admire you for the way you part your hair.

You throne dwelling queen. You receiver of rings.

Sunflowers rise to your touch as you walk through the grass

And weeds who twirl themselves around your toes

May nibble for a little while but realize they don’t like the way you taste

And would rather coil up to someone who they can suffocate.

I love the way my body moves when I move

They may not, but I do

Who cares if they do?  

Your body is not a magazine

Marked up with lipstick bruises and numbers declaring your worth

Pinned up in front of a bike shop with cracked windows.

Your body is a flag.

Lift it higher and higher

Till the emblem on your back

Is the only star

In the sky.