Current mood:	angry
Current music:	None

To everyone else who used to be ugly.
I thought about taking my picture down ,
when I realized it became just another thing to be judged by.
Got an email from a man saying I wasn't what he expected.
What was it he expected?
I made no claims of being a supermodel ,
wouldn't even want to be one.
I'm too damn proud of these hips that require a certain amount of wiggle room,
Too damn proud of this thick hair that takes an hour to tame ,
And these blue green eyes that reflect ancestors brave enough to cross color lines,
even way back before colored people could vote,
-or watch Oprah for advice.

I suppose I'm not everyone's standard of beauty;
To some, who are shocked by my "blended looks" I am other or error.
To them, I am flawed.
To my husband, I am divine.
When I touch him with these electric fingers,
I know he would cross a thousand rivers just to lie next to me.
To him, I am everything.

I thought about taking the picture down,
After the anonymous emailer told me my mouth was a little too wide,
My lips painted too bright; said I should tone it down.
But then I thought about the many men who have kissed me over the years, and told me I tasted like sugar, vanilla, and rain.
-told me that kissing me was like being saved; being baptized on a joyful Sunday afternoon.

I thought about taking it down,
My nose too big, on display for the world to read like a history book.
But I think I will let you look at me for a while longer.
Know that I am there,
My mixed up pieces thrown together,
With my smile, despite that man's dislike of it.
I won't try to shed my skin...too brown for some, not brown enough for others.
And I will proudly paint these lips.
These lips that say what I feel, cursing out the people cutting me off on the Interstate
- these lips my husband loves to kiss at night.

Despite what some people define as beautiful;
I am.