I am a pretty piece of flesh
but do I really think that?
Do you think so?
I know I’m not supposed to care
what you think, but I do.
I might even admit that I dress
for you,
just in case you decide to tell me
that I’m lovely.
Hawt, even.
I could get used to slang
if it means
that you want me.
But if not,
maybe I can eventually get used
to the idea
that I’m beautiful.
That pretty piece of flesh.

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