Ode To Nose

In past time ignored, thought of as a curse,

Unwanted and hated by your keeper.

In present time, gained a line, made a bit worse.

My insecurities grow deeper.

I can see you sitting on the faces of those pictured in the past,

On some you sit high,

Others far from the eyes.

In 2006, continually scratched by a pink arm cast,

When I find myself sad, you’re suffocated by my thigh,

In fetal position, face wet, as more sad thoughts arise.

Inner function is at halt when dust particles fly by.

Indulge in the scent of baby lotion and cocoa butter.

Crave the aroma of mama’s blueberry pie.

How he smelled when we first kissed, my insides flutter

like the butterflies did when I fell face down,

you were covered in Carolina dirt.

You wrinkled up when papa brushed it off,

his rough hand smelled of car oil and newports, it made me frown.

Those were the times when all I wore was overalls and backless shirts,

vapor rub in the air when i'd sniffle and cough.

A deal made in eighth grade to get you removed,

between all the black girl magic and self love, no more depreciation,

my view of you improved.

It wasn’t that hard to love this black girl nose in this disarrayed nation.

What are you to be, if not my most prized possession?

Tales of love, exile, and war threaded into your very shape.

You guide me, like my tears, over your bridge and into the depths of unexpected dreams.

Oh my dear schnoz, I have a confession.

Line and all, you are the great hill of my landscape,

And I adore your very existence, it seems.