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I may not have exotic eyes lined with kohl, mesmerising you with some Persian promise.
I may not be a perfect size ten , with skinny thighs and humble breasts.
I may not have sleek black hair, with the scent of coconut oil.
I may not move with the grace of a swan or twirl like a gentle breeze.
I may not bow to your every command or soften my voice so as not to be heard.
I may not be all the things you think he needs.
I may not be your idea of beautiful, but he sees more beauty in me than I’ve ever seen in myself.