I’m 40 years old now and I am done 

putting down my body. 

she has done so much for me 

and I am finished giving 

the only thanks to her being 

words of curses and abuse.

she has carried me,

her vast desert brown sand, 

stretching over valleys and hills 

preserving sun and warmth for colder days.

she has been a cave, 

a small humble dwelling, 

where each of my children have  

been created, formed and grew, 

safe and warm in the darkened 

secret place,

then at the appointed time,

she gently pushed them out 

into the light.

she is brown and soft and sweet,

my body is brown sugar, 

molasses, 

and made of clay.

a strong vessel, 

a beloved crinkled map,

covered in wrinkles and cracks,

yet still in tact.

I love my body. 

she has been kind, humble, and loyal to me.

i will not speak ill of her again,

instead I will thank her, 

rejoice and delight in her

fuss over her, 

feeding her, 

not starving her,

ushering her into rooms and 

gently, patiently 

coaxing her to 

u n f u r l,

spread out,

and take up space. 

she is golden light, 

before the sun sets

I will cloak her in royal

purples, 

greens, 

and reds, 

before she is laid to rest 

returning to the clay 

in which she was formed..

 I am warm

like buttered toast,

the butter melted, sunken in.

I am the thick layer of

cinnamon sugar 

spooned on top.

I do not know where my cinnamon ends, or my sugar begins.

I just know I am sweet 

and I smell so  good. 

the air is good,

the sun like kerry gold butter

on my body 

i am a lowly donkey,

I come in meekness and the gentleness 

of Christ.

i am humble in appearance, yes

but there is quiet confidence and divine strength 

inside me.

i know there is nothing attractive or shiny about me,

my big dumb expressive eyes, my hooves black and always dirtied. 

my bellowy cry, obnoxious and far from delicate.

what even is the use of a 

ugly brown stupid donkey 

like me.

yet, 

He chose me.

He chose me.

placed palms 

before my feet.

and that is my greatest honor.

there are a bunch roofers 
stapling shingles on top of the house two over.

I can see and and hear them clearly.

I get a wildly intrusive

rebellious thought 

what if i 

put on my 

red one piece bathing suit,

(it makes my breasts look magnificent, 

along with everything else)

and lay out my body beneath the sun and God and the roofers.

do you think one of them would 

f 

 a

    l

      l

staple guns ricochet

e v e r y w h e r e, 

shingles, metal nails and

hard working men

go flying 

can you imagine

instead 

I lounge on my chair

like a lizard 

covered fully in 

brown pants and a 

white shirt with an old 

butter chicken stain on it.

the roofers pay me 

no mind.