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thepensword

ode to my belly rolls

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let's endeavor to be soft and round

like the warmest muffin, the sweetest marshmallow;

place her on your tongue and she tastes like confidence.

let's lift up her soft spots and give them a trophy

tell her that flight is free of gravity

that her size is not detriment to soaring through the stratosphere.

 

dress her in jean shorts and a crop top.

belly button showing and thighs bared to the world;

look at her stretch marks, proudly displayed, inked in sharpie

look at her hips, round and powerful

imagine your hands are full and you need to close your car door. there you go, swing those hips!

 

sometimes her reflection transforms

into hideous monstrosity, into too much flesh;

sometimes she hides beneath sweatshirt and blanket,

does not bear her roundness well

this is when she needs you the most;

your reassurance, your warm touches:

i love your roundness, your softness, how good you feel to hug.

 

let's place her on a stage and encourage her to dance

let's praise those thighs that jiggle,

that stomach that spills

let's find the laws of physics in those hips

and that presence is like a hurricane

let's teach her she's a force of nature

and that nothing can move her

 

let's teach her to love herself in her entirety.

 

 

 

 

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