“if this body were not your own,
would you find it beautiful?”
he asked, studying my face inquisitively,
i look at the picture,
imagining i did not know her.
this woman i could have seen anywhere,
a library, a coffee shop, the halls of one of my schools,
i close my eyes and open them,
she's not jaw dropping gorgeous,
not someone id stop to look at,
but there is something different… what is it?
there is something sharp about that smile,
like she's ready for a debate,
like she knows she's already won.
in that moment i want to count her freckles,
constellations across her face,
this woman, would be a force to be reckoned with if only she knew
i want to tell her she is regal,
she is exquisite, she is powerful, she is celestial, she is emotive
but i simply say
“yes, if this body weren't not my own,
i guess i would find it a certain kind of beautiful.”