a love letter to my body

art by Kayleigh Causton

I am told to get rid of you
and though I'm not particularly attached to you,
I hold on tightly.

I've ran for miles,
I've starved to death,
yet I can't seem to shake you off.

My collarbones
My hipbones
protruding out of my skin,
yet you still live.

I can't help but love you
for you are a sign of abundance.

You show the world I live.
You show the world I eat fine foods and drink exotic wine.
You show the world I would thrive in ancient times.

I am not going to limit myself for anyones gaze any longer,
for there are far too many fruits for me to taste.

All of the judges and the juries who care enough to look me up and down,
they don't know a thing about being a woman.

They love and hate the body parts a woman has
but not the woman all-together.

If you think my waistline defines my worth,
you are not worth my time anyways.

My curves may not have the credentials they crave
but I do not live for their gaze.

I no longer live for your gaze.

I stand as a goddess,
portraying the spirit of Venus.
I am artwork, nonetheless,
a Botticelli painting come to life.

You show the world I am no longer suffering.

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