I walk to the mirror,

There is me.

I am me.

My eyes,

A touch of cashmere

With a blend of Stygian.

My lips,

Cracked like the abandoned

With scars of desperation.

My arms,

Long enough to reach

Strong enough to grab.

My legs,

Stretch like sidewalks.

They uplift me when I fall.

My face,

Covered in spots and wrinkles.

Looking like dried raisins.

My face,

Coughing dirt

Stoned like medusa.

My face...

Not chiseled like the beautiful,

And not basked in golden-rods.

My face...

My Face!

Is my grace...

Let my skin,

Bloom like dragon flowers

Under the summer's dawn.

I am me.

Trying to conceal

The enemy.