A Letter from My Body
I stare at you in the mirror. I see a woman’s body, strong and capable. I see large, round breasts, a curvy body, an hourglass: it tells my time. “23 years” you say, “we’ve been together. And you’ve never failed me.” I look, hard, at your reflection again. I see round hips, a glorious bottom that curves and gives way to strong shapely legs. I see hips and a middle that bends and sways, that holds your womanhood, your power. I see a neck that turns to experienced arms, a feminine collarbone, a body well exercised and well nourished. You are exquisite, in all your imperfections, your character, your genuine uniqueness. You are a river, flow together to create one masterpiece, one indistinguishable and proud form. I love everything about you. You show me what I’ve been through, where I’ve grown and matured. The spots that freckle you, kisses from angels, I’m told. You express me through movement, the light in your eyes, your kind smile and large laugh. Your nose, pinkies, feet, your genetic heritage. You are me, I am you, we are one. One form that moves together, one form that loves and cries, that screams and shouts, that hugs and holds, that dances and laughs. We sing together, we hold one another. We need not fight, we need not hate. We are one, original, and in that beautiful, perfectly imperfect just as we stand.