Shoot me then!
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me hard.
In the mornings when I do not feel pretty,
I see him smile at me.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.
Loving me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a freaking novelty!
I ask, ‘Am I fat?’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more,’
and kisses me hard.