My eyebrows are too perfect. Their high arches intimidate you. I created them.
Listen to me stutter. Try not to smile. Take me seriously. I have carved my own cheekbones with dark powder. I have highlighted where I am taught to highlight. I am lit where the sun naturally hits me. My chipped tooth cuts my lower lip. See how you want to suck the welling blood.
My laugh makes you think of your genitals. It makes you think of riding a bike and not knowing where to rest your genitals.
You can see my nipples through my dress. You can see that my nipples are pierced. You can see that I could handle childbirth. You ask me for a smile. I smile. You are disappointed. I smile. My blood rushes where I tell it. Now it fills my cheeks. You think I am embarrassed, therefore you think I’m pretty.
I naturally stand shoulder-width apart. I naturally stand close to you from across a room. Smell my sweet sweat.
You are not fooled by my hip fat tucked in denim. Bulging hourglass. Yet now you want my hip fat. I am a genius.
I have the cheeks of a child and the lips of a woman and the breasts of a woman and the makeup of a woman and the giving, giving eyes of a bastard.
You cannot reject me.