Before the juice is sweetened with passion

The fruit must fall and turn colors

Submit to wrinkling by the sun

“A tropical twist worth waiting for!” you crow to the mirror

While you slowly release the pinch from your brow

Straight to combing your all-to-misbehaving hair

Taming what is wild or amplifying what is modest

“I hate my ..!” you almost yell

While you remember cancer fighting women with heads lay bare

Little by little you see

Your eyes, perhaps not as luminescent as you’d like

But the only decent pair to tell the full story of your soul

Your nose, blurring the lines of the law of proportion

But only in a made-up world where people carry rulers

Where lopsided ears can be traded in on eBay

Where skin doesn’t recognize the season it’s in

Where every cheekbone is in a race to the top

Little by little you tell yourself

This face is ripening and that is good

And while a sexy, pouty mouth might be nice

Your deeper wish is for kindness when you open your lips.