Poetry Corner: For Imogen

By Clementine Yost

Before the polished sand of her mirror
Freckled and pale
Limbs and moles as she remembered

in dismantling
her self a specimen for
A tally of flaws

How radical would it be
to love instead?
Were that even allowed
starting small
with only known things
Love for her nose
these ankles
are ok
I guess
And on she builds
Credence like jenga rising
on the brink of collapse

Unlike Emily,
compass & chart
are far from futile in this
untraveled territory

Mania or self-love?
is she latching on to hope or
is she hopeful?

Like those bees
drunk on the nectar of confusing life
she stands bare to her life’s most ardent critic
and brashly
in the face of proscribed loathing
finds beauty
And soon like the butterfly
is glittered in this magic dust
known to most
as confidence.