She hangs mid-air,
suspended, as though from faint fairy strings,
with the mischievous beings, barely there,
holding her aloft,
chattering quietly, smiling, sparkling,
socialising among themselves.
She understands she is not perfect,
she’s been sneered at and jeered at all year,
a hopeless reach into the view for perfection
she’s been striving for,
because her beautiful curvaceous limbs
apparently do not match her
enviable waist circumference.
Why was she made this way? she wonders,
as the fairies continue to dance,
why was she made with measurements to
but to cause her superiors to grow aghast?
Mesmerised by the music of the twittering fairies,
a sudden overwhelming wave of realisation
washes and oozes into her pores,
causing her to lose all sense of control,
she trembles, she shudders, almost falls.
And for that moment, she understands that
yes, all in all,
she is perfect,
not only in her own way,
but perfect regardless of what anyone has to
say at all.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.
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