This is a love letter,
part apology, part promise
to love you better,
to look in the mirror
and see what I like
about you: lashes, legs.
To look in the mirror
and love your creases
and folds, the softness
I call ugly in an ugly voice.
How is it loving to call you
too much and not enough
all at once? How is it loving
to look at you through
anyone else’s eyes
but your own?
This is a love letter,
part apology, part promise
to look in the mirror
a little less, to love you
a little more. Your shining
pieces, and your struggles:
none of these are your name.
None of these make you less
loved.
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