Imperfection Perfection

I found one of my notebooks in my desk at work today (I have several notebooks stashed in various locations at home and at work). Looking through that notebook I discovered some of my poems that were written about six months ago.

Talk about surprise. I am caught off guard sometimes when I re-read my work because the intensity of my poetry is amazing. But alas, it is my poetry, right? This one particular poem, Imperfection Perfection, is one of those poems…

Staring at my reflection

at the results of bearing life

stretch marks gracefully swim

across my abdomen in waves

of caramel kisses.
The low slope of my breasts

reflect the nourishment

I provide for all who came forth

from my body.
My body is imperfectly perfect

in it’s own way

loving me as I love it…

– Why Yet 11/29/16

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