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You’re beautiful. Like the new-grown skin on a scab from a sidewalk scrape. You’re beautiful. You’re funny. Like the major party candidates in a presidential debate. You’re funny. You’re wise. Like an athlete gone pro and then forced into coaching. You’re wise. You’re cute. Like a furry little Plaza squirrel just before he gnaws your finger for grabbing his nuts. You’re cute. You’re happy. Like a nurse who never quite made it into medical school, but pretends it doesn’t matter. You’re happy. You’re amazing. Like a mushroom cloud over a heavily populated city on Easter Sunday. You’re amazing. |