Alomst

i have always felt
almost pretty.

but there's always that
almost word marching on
ahead of everything.

a prelude to
place before
any compliment
i receive:
talented,
smart,
creative-
i always think,
"who, me?"

because i am the one
with the translucent wrists.

see through
peek a boo skin
eye spy veins
blue as violets,
they've always
been this way.

nimble and slim,
able to slip through any number
of cracks and small spaces.

an innocence
of sorts.
my eyes are wide as saucers
with bags beneath them
that never get unpacked.

without glasses,
those small sacks
of iridescent
tissue thin flesh
add a certain
wisdom
to my face.

i remember when you said,
sometimes, people only see
what you choose to share.
and i liked that.
it gave me control
over clusters of keloids
which
speak their say
too loud.