Mystique ( NaPoWriMo Poem 14 of 30)


Our lines aint supposed to be some molded etched form
doctors slicing and shaping what was already created
you unique sculpture of God’s hands
the dance of DNA left footprints across your skin
these delicate details you fight to
slanted eyebrow, slight bump in the ridge of nose,
the crevices of lips, and texture of skin
how free we are when we surrender
in the battle against our own form
our power supply immensely wasted on
transforming exterior, already beautiful by natural design
when it’s tranformation and elevation WITHIN
that is our best intention


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