liking my own skin

i look closely, too closely, i can see the pores on my skin, the grey in my hair, the lines on my smile. . .but i like them all, anyway.

i like the way i was made, the way i wear my skin,

the way i like to open up my windows and let the sun through the greens,
the way i love to listen to the early morning chirps and tweets (no snores to bear with, hallelujah!)

the way i listen to my music on my phonograph, which keeps me standing and walking to and fro.
i like the dusty stack of books that i meant to read

and the wanderings i do at used books stores and thrift stores on any day mornings.

i like the way i tick and the way i tock and the way i am not like anyone else,
and my kind of different is good.

i like the way i do not do life like others and the way i perfectly fit
because i am so wondrously, happily, astonishingly me.

this weekend, all my wanderings were in the comfort of my skin, the way it was made to fit me.
my compliments to my maker.

thank you for taking me in as i am.  ilysm!  ♥ ♥ ♥