Phenomenal

Marilyn Monroe,they say,was a size sixteen,
a number only contributes so much to an identity,
but talking of filling out life's curves and crevices,
there is only so much shame as we allow,
and so much love as we embrace our embodiment of  beauty.

Neither the cheekbones are shallow,nor the collar line,
 Beauty can be beyond the line of sight,
Skindeep was never a scale to measure it,anyway.
Full thighs and muffin top tummies are not insults,
they are claims of self love,of the shape it takes.

The curve of calves might be sensual to some,
just as much as hair that has a life of it's own,
and the slope of  a meandering torso's edges
Hips that could make a room for one,
True charm lies in words that try to hurt none.

A pretty child probably declared that looks din't matter,
They do so,but an apetite for growth is
that which weighs it out,way out of proportion.
An intuition and some wit,teamed with compassion,
is sex appeal enough to covet outside of convention.