If I could only trust myself
enough to open up to me
to hold my own hand
exhale truths without excuses
in the same breath
that I breathe me in
with weighty limbs and
grassy knees
and hold my legs tight
and kiss my fingertips
and treat my belly with
overwhelming tenderness
and forget about the sometime
someone somewhere
told me something
and adore my eyelashes
delicate against my wrist
with gentle curvature

If I could only close my eyes
and sleep in the contours of my shoulders
and let my body float
as delicate wisps of air
and examine the creases of my eyelids
and see myself
in my cheekbones, in my palms
in the arches of my feet
as less than ugly