Ode to My Queer and Changing Body

Upon further examination,

I have come to the conclusion

that one day, I will not

look like Apollo Belvedere.


While these shoulders

bring to mind another fable,

they narrowly brace the expectations

of an art-obsessed dreamer.


Perhaps,  in time,

I will invent my own classical nude.

The curve of my body that pains me so

will become a convention.

My wide-set hips

will be beautiful.


In my history,

my lips part just slightly

with words on my tongue.

My eyes fix on the sky,

my back to the past,

and my chest

(oh my chest)

facing tomorrow.


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