do you think the sun knows how much pleasure it gives
how warm are its rays; how soft is its touch?
i don't think the sun knows that we love it,
but you do.
do you think the birds know how familiar their songs are
how gentle their love-notes; how vibrant their feathers?
i don't think the birds know that we see them,
but you should.
the sun and the birds and the skies and the seas:
all of them so different, and all of them so beautiful
before humans ever thought to even give them names.
and you too were beautiful before you even thought
that the creeping torrid shame should have a space, should have a voice:
it should not. you are wonderful,
and you should know that.