In Your Body

When we’re young, so thin ribs are ladder rungs,
we long to gain flesh to ward off taunts and name-calling that shadows us even in our moments of private silence.
We think joy will find us when our body starts to build flesh around our timid skeletal frame.
We’re so used to beauty being awarded the muscular.

Our stout friends beg for less bouncing of hurtful words
off their flesh.
They long for spells and potions of the magic variety to ward off unkind judgemental glares.
They feel life is made for the thin and the buff.
They’re so used to being objects of the comical and hurtful.

What does body contentment look like exactly?
When do we wake up to the beauty that lies in our very
hearts, belly laughs and diamond sparkle in our eyes?
When do we wake up to the shapes that make the world wholesome and cheersome?
Can beauty only come in muscle?
Or can it slip out of lean jeans
And moisturised bellies that carry sunshine into dark
corners of unhappy rooms filled with insecure bodies.

I remember once, being a scrawny boy in high school,
pimples freshly popped at every turn…
Heart pounding and dying to be and not be noticed…
Running towards magical diets…
Crying for better thighs…
Wishing for a man who would see beyond my skinny legs…
I forgot about the charm in my smile, the kindness in my chest…
And the wisdom in my brow…

Live, love and remember that there’s a lid for every pot…
That that which you forget to notice in you is what will charm another.
That which you want to perfect in you is what is already perfect for one who’ll love you unreservedly.
Take your clothes off…
Stare into your being in the mirror…
You’re from love…
Reach for it in you.

Written by Frank Malaba