You must know your own beauty.
Look at your world;
all those roses,
saucepans,
violet lipsticks,
your eyeglasses,
your favorite armchair.
Study your handwriting.
Draw a little yellow house under a November sky.
Inquire if you must of your cat or dog or parakeet
but no one else.
Simply know that with every breath,
you are luminescent as rain,
radiant as any Northern star,
beautiful as a wild garden shimmering before the first frost.
Above the kitchen sink
Boyleston Street
Boston, MA
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