Beauty

When you see yourself
in the mirror each morning
and curse yourself
like a routine
as if the words
just belong there
rolling themselves out
as if on cue.
When you see yourself
and you see the scars
the marks
the curves and bulges
you see imperfections
and you hate
your own body
with every breath of you
with all of your being.
And your body
rebels....
it hates you, for hating it.
and in that
vicious cycle,
you forget
that someone looks at you
and he sees
what you see
when you stare at the moon
and cannot keep your eyes off.
Magnificence
and perfection
in all the little marks.
And beauty…
Utter beauty.