Without my initials maybe my edges

would be smoother – soft like my tummy

and the inside of my elbow.

I could be lighter – caterpillar to

butterfly, shedding the nine letters

which have sought to define me my whole life.

It would be a cocoon lying in tatters

– falling away as ash and dust to leave

behind a pale face and freckles.

Red hair and blue eyes, only

five foot something in height

– but I’d be light.

Softer and more like the girl

people like to hug in greeting,

rather than stand off and smile.

Perhaps, without the need

for a name – I would smile.



Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

2 thoughts on “Smoother

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