My body is not built of twigs
how could twigs carry my soul?
I am not small, or delicate, or light.
My feet do not move with a grace you would recognize
my body is not built of twigs
how could a body of twigs bear children?
My body is covered in a network of scars, and stretchmarks
these scars and stretchmarks are beloved
they tell a story
My body is made of steal
By: Elizabeth Wilde