I will never be a suburban queen* with

      legs of liquid denim that shift and flow and never press together and

      sculpted breasts like colorless piñatas just waiting to be grabbed ** and

      candy floss hair that weaves itself into a different miracle every day and

      a full mouth that pleads the boys to fill it further with a kiss*** and

      a laugh that tinkles down to the little brain without a detour to the big one.

You can see them in

      Kiera’s jaw and

      Britney’s hair and

      Katy’s hands and

      Kristen’s stare and

      Shakira’s hips and

      Lana’s mouth.

 

They are flawless.****

 

*bitch

**broken

***tongue

****for now

 

But I have been here for centuries* with

      legs of curving alabaster that sway around my bones and

      breasts that sink** under the weight of the flesh that holds them together and

      curling hair that needs no oil but that which comes from my scalp and

      a little pouting*** mouth under a straight, strong nose and

      a laugh that makes you wonder what I know that you don’t.

You can see me in

      Athena’s jaw and

      Cleopatra’s hair and

      Judith’s hands and

      Helen’s stare and

      Penthesilea’s hips and

      Guinevere’s mouth.

 

I am flawless.****

 

*millennia

**arc

***shapely

****forever