Hot foggy water
flowing from my hair
soaking my shoulders and
rolling down my body...
This is the body I
love.
The body I don't
complain about. The body
that is perfect.
The body with legs that I
don't have to shave,
the body with breasts that I
need not wrap in binding bras,
the body I don't have to smear
lotion across...
In fact, this is the body that I get
to wash it off of
the body I get to remove all the
superficial from.
Makeup,
hair gel,
lotion,
glitter...
I love to see them swirl down
the drain,
and when I emerge from the stall I'm
renewed
for the week ahead.
The blurry shape of myself that I see in the hot
fogged-up mirror doesn't betray
that I'm anything less than Aphrodite...
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