The platform of my feet The weakness of my knees The flit of butterflies in my stomach
My mouth begins to smile My thin lips shielding the imperfection of my teeth My eyes twinkling from the constellations above My hair a frizz, as always.
I see him
He smiles a crooked smile His eyes a clear sky blue, He extends his hand
I grab it, my nails unpainted and bitten to nubs.
He whispers “You’re beautiful”
I smile, revealing my teeth.
My imperfections Mean Nothing
The butterflies fly away as we walk together toward