i held the ugly parts of me, rolled them in my palms, pinned them between my fingers, stared at them unblinkingly, and one by one i crunched them between my teeth and swallowed them like pills, and like pills they were bitter in my tongue. then i bared my breasts to the sun and called myself reborn, for i have swallowed my flaws, called them mine, and felt a little sense of pride in them— these soft fragments of me i hated. so gentle as babies' breaths did they slid down my throat and scattered into the cavities of my being, back into spaces i plucked them from and screamed at, all into place once more. oh, these imperfections. they are pretty. they make me pretty.
