Credit: Lauren Bator (blog)

Growing (Th)in

When I just a young child,
Who told me pretty was:

Stomach flat as a board
Cheekbones sharp as razors
Collarbones that cup water
Thighs with the gap of a canyon
Ribs like the strings of a harp
Spine dotted like staccato
Skin stretched over skeleton

I did not know to become a woman,
Was not to grow, but to shrink?

Who made me believe
The most beautiful part of me
Would be negative space?