Imperfect expanse,
Rolling landscape,
Sacred and ordinary.
Scars faded almost invisible.
Stretch marks slashed red on lily white,
Reminiscent of the wounds
From the straight blade I kept in a drawer.

Canvas thick with paint,
Layers of love and hate
Painted on by lovers, strangers,
Self, and others.
Cigarette butts and crushed beer cans
And masterpieces on the walls.
Cherished and reviled,
Wrong for society's standards of beauty,
Exactly right
For me.