her eyes shine blue,
an electrical storm when she's sad,
a dark cloudy day when she's angry,
a clear empty sky when she's happy.
she laughs, and her face crinkles,
crow's feet and smile lines,
a history of emotion carved into
young flesh, not old enough to care.
we're so centered on beauty as a society,
but she has braces, and an overbite,
and her laugh sounds like a horse's braying,
she's shorter than me and a bit
thick around the middle and thighs.
she's still so pulchritudinous,
in all of her athleticness and
good-natured humour, she is
just as pretty as anyone else.
do not tell me this makes her worth less,
because you are not human if you
don't ever make mistakes.
perfection is not something to be striven for,
it is a technical impossibility.
have you ever seen cosmos that align?
have you ever seen asymmetrical nebulae?
have you ever seen stars that all shone the same?
our skies, our outer space
shows us how you can be
flawed and no less attractive
for it and that is a lesson
that many still must learn.