Her Aesthetic

Credit: Faustine Badrichani

I crave her,
her imperfect past,
and makeup-covered scars.

I crave her stories of being
lonely and afraid,
under cold tear-stained covers.

I crave her bottled-up emotions
and unspoken words,
from her dark red quivering lips.

Come to me flawed
I’ll swallow your pain,
divulge in your being, with you.

And, before you’re mine,
I hope you reciprocate the favor.
I’m like you; I’m flawed, too.