Planets

"You always appreciate the parts of me that I don't like."

And how could I tell them that our bodies are planets. Every bump, skin tag, mole, and pimple: a mountain range, a delicate hill. Every scar, stretch mark, indent, crease, and fold: a valley, a majestic grand canyon.

Our veins are rivers. We are covered in woodlands and jungles; these forests which we shave and cut down to create space for society's demands. We are seventy percent ocean.

We paint and construct out faces--the most expressive of gardens. Pruned eyebrow hedges, colored lips and eyelids or, sometimes left to their natural state in organic beauty. The potential for statuary on earlobes, noses, lips, tongues, anywhere. Our eyes are pools of the deepest blues and greens and browns. These revealing lakes become fountains when we cry.

Human planets. Colliding with one another. Orbiting around our larger solar system. Inhabited by billions of organisms.

When we hold hands, the extremities of my earth attach to yours and our citizens immigrate across these borders. Our forms align when we are side by side. Your head on my chest. My arms round your waist.

And so how can I tell them that our bodies are harmonising planets, resplendent in these so called "flaws,"

when I can only find the words:

"you are beautiful."