you have been shallow.
you admit that.
a mere bump or mole,
or sign
of cellulose made you
run for the door.
a pound of misplaced
fat,
or strand of gray hair.
a scar
upon her back,
these things would kill
the moment,
but things have
changed.
you get it now.
the mirror has humbled
you, made
you a better person,
can you forgive,
and take me
back. I like your crooked
tooth. really,
I do.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
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