dear body,

what is this mismatched mosaic
that you are in the mirror -
this fumbling jumble of flaws,
this frightening medley of faults -
this glitch,
this error,
this defect -

and what is this misplaced magic
that you are to all eyes but mine -
this unrecognized spectator road,
this coveted gift of commonplace -
this ordinary,
this regular,
this neutral -

what are you
when pictured with impartial perspective -
what are you
when glimpsed with glossed-over grace -
what are you
when there is nothing being done to you
besides being noticed?