Flawed

Forms reduced to

Nothing but what the world wants

To see. Based on

Television and

Magazines and

Celebrities. But I am

Proud of me

Proud of

Legs that tap lightly across floors

Legs that cross in a flash of

Russet skin, scarred yet

Alluring as they prance

Through pulsating grasses and

Across marble slabs in a

Percussion of rock and skin

Proud of

Angles that jut out and

Make themselves known

Against curves that roil and

Betray time as it should be instead to

Press the fast-forward button

While the angles

Stay true to what I am

Proud of

Wheels that turn endlessly

Throughout my mind they caress

The cerebral cortex and the amygdala

Right and Left come together as

Creativity is managed logically and

Logic is transformed creatively

To make art

In the only way I can

The only way my heart and

My body will let me

Proud of

Eyes that see more than

Most would want

Eyes that will beguile you and

Lead you into me to

Dance along the brink of my soul and

Tip into me and take of

My core in a brave plunge of

Emotion and awareness

Of pain and longing and need so profound

That God would shed tears in an attempt to

Share in my unreserved happiness

Proud of

Dreams that are forthright in

Their peculiarity and

Brilliance in things that

Would normally cause

Cowardice to dominate my being and

Display my hubris at the

Stake to burn with witches that

Refuse to succumb to the

Lunacy that properly rhymes with

Society

FLAWED, I may be

But,

It is only by the definition that

The current conventions will allow

To those of us whose minds

Have not yet become

Full, robust Gardens of Eden in which

The center holds the Tree of Knowledge and

Has not yet born fruit that has

Ripened enough

To be considered

Desirable