IN THE THREE WAY MIRROR
I stood in a pale
pink dress, the
pink one waffle
shapes wouldn't
last in. No
matter I thought,
no dress would
look its best on
me, not the way
it could on skinny
Ginny or Vivian.
I stood, 13,
hating hips that
weren't boyish,
hair curled tight,
not a long slick
straight waterfall,
and pale pink round
glasses. But, the
worst, thighs
that I could
never imagine
anyone when I was
old enough to
have daughters
the age I was, say
"your legs are
so beautiful
and strong."