I want to take a Polaroid of every mole and freckle on my body,
the one on my nose and the ones just above each kneecap
and all the rest,
and lay them out on the carpet
to create a constellation
with a beige, shaggy carpet sky as a background,
just to admire the potential for beauty in my “flaws”
because every square inch of me is gorgeous
and I deserve to appreciate that.
I want to buy a picnic basket
and load it up with sandwiches and grapes
and a whole lot of other stereotypical stuff
but still leave room to pack all the snacks you like,
even though they might not go with the aesthetic
because the look of delight on your face
when you see those Oreos
is my aesthetic
and because you deserve to feel special.
I want to write love notes for strangers,
to leave them little reminders
that they are appreciated,
anonymous love notes hastily scrawled on pale yellow post it notes
and left to be found in the least obvious of places,
like under cafe tables and inside of porcelain vases at Target,
because those strangers are loved
by me and by the universe,
even if they don’t recognize it themselves.
Photo by Linda Eller-Shein from Pexels
The Yellow Brick Ave 
This is beautiful.
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Thank you!
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I loved every line.
I used to think of moles and freckles as constellations. Charting the route back home.
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I used to have this desire to play connect the dots with them and make a whole web of lines across my body. I love that they can have so much meaning and don’t have to be seen as a negative.
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It is so great to see the progression in this. It seems most discussion about self-care and self-love stops there and never extends beyond that. This delightful poem starts there, moves on to someone close, and then goes beyond that in the narrator’s compassion for complete strangers. That “little love” of the title goes a long way.
Awesome poem!
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Thank you! I’m glad you like this idea of expanding outward. It’s a concept that has been on my mind lately, so there’s a good chance that it will feature in my writing again at some point
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love yourself
put all shame on that shelf
high hopes and best wishes
a woman s image of her body
is almost as tragic
as what so called society says she should look like
excellent post Joy!
much love~!
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Thank you!
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yw. i m a man so i have no credibility when it comes to a woman s body. literally.
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Unfortunately, my skin doctor keeps photos of every mole and freckle on my body and the process is less inspiring than your beautiful poetry.
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True, not every picture of those should be viewed as art
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