Sometimes I write things.
This part of my body, I struggle to love.
But do you know?
How lovely to touch,
nothing monstrous for a space so maligned.
There is less of it now, people tell me again and again how much better that must make me.
for the teeth,
the dark shadows that indicate the evil within.
I find only lovely doughiness,
a place I would want to kiss on someone else,
and I weep from wanting to stop hating this place that does nothing to deserve it.
(c) Regan Wann 2022