My Non Beautiful Met

My Non Beautiful Me

my non beautiful me
wants to talk to the
non beautiful
you

reflected in the mirror
this morning
at an early hour

not all the glory is
lost
what’s left, by the skin of
our teeth

there’s a shadow
call it a memory
where you shine

like a sequin
sewn into the tail of a fish

or a star
spilling crushed ice
enough to fill the dimple
in your cheek

our non beautiful selves
staring out the difference
dusting off, as it were
the inventory of
who we think we are

© 2009 andrew kooman

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