You, who has been pretty all of your life,
the world loves your skin, the crowd loves the thin
curves and contours of your soft body.

You, who is loud like a tornado,
bright as the thunder shakes the earth,
taking up space, filling it up, making it yours.

You, who knew what being coddled truly means,
asking for it then getting the sweet delivery,
the grace of a child, its want for engulfing love.

You, who looks at me just like
I named every planet in the sky on a whim,
and maybe, just maybe, I could have,

But I am just me,
I am just me.