Day 24 - One Poem a Day

Day 24 - Present

Dear love,
I want you to still feel like the luckiest man on Earth
When it is the first time
We unwrap the secrets
we've been hiding
In a warm and little litted room
I must let you know that my skin isn't gloss-paper magazine-worthy
Every inch of my body is not going to be like porcelain
My body is not a wonderland you imagine
There are soft stubles below my navel and subtle marks scarring my waist the way a tigress leaves mark of her claws on a tree bark
I used to believe that growing up beautiful is a myth
and puberty is an urban legend
There are hairs and fluid
From places I don't even dare to mention
And there is always love song serenading
to every girl in this entire planet, except me
Now you know the story
behind the terrified look of my eyed
and the cover to every crook,
every bend of my body
So when you say the word "beautiful" I need to know if you mean it
Because my security is scarce even when I have been healing on my own
I do not feel as beautiful as
when you take me by the waist
and let me sit next to you by the edge of the bed
Close enough to see your eyes glimmering
Your fingers crawling, unbuttoning
Lips puckering, soft-landing
onto the parts I pretend they don't exist
My legs crossing, breath quivering
I only feel the luckiest when you unwrap me like this
Like a present you've been waiting for