I look at my flesh and I see
a tender hand trailing down my curves.
the four hands that explored it, loved it, worshipped it.
the way it writhed in pleasure when bound.
the pleasure it brings me.
the pleasure it’s brought others
femininity I thought wasn’t meant for me.
grace they said I didn’t possess.
wisdom from my mistakes.
scars as reminders of a life lived.
tattoos that tell a story meant only for me.
strength from endurance, struggle and growth.
bravery for the chances I’ve taken.
proof of the life I have given.
anticipation and hope for the touches not yet received
I look at my flesh and I see love. I see a human. I see me. And I am beautiful.