An Ode to Bad Noses
Give me your crooked, your overly extended.
Let me kiss the deep indents and the remnants of bad falls.
Here I will cradle the time your brother pushed you off the slide.
Broken nose? Adonis couldn’t compare.
You see a ‘too’ big nose, I see the Native in you.
You mumble a sorry when it stops our kiss.
You do not understand that your ‘bad’ nose,
Is the best thing about you.
I’ll reassure you that it makes you look distinguished.
Why fix it? It makes your face feel expressive.
Large nose, above big lips.
Below almond shaped eyes. Laid upon hazel brown skin.
A million faces but I see those ‘bad’ noses again and again.
Rhinoslasty would be sacrilege here. It would fix something,
That isn’t broken.
An ode to the best of all of us.
Button noses, turned slightly upward.
Roman noses, commandeering and strong.
Broccoli noses, begging to be kissed in their three ending points.
Sided noses, left or right? Either is fine.
And in those, the ones I’ve held dearly. In adoration.
Their noses demand kisses as I lean forward,
Five on your forehead, three on your chin,
Two on each cheek, one on your nose.
The last one on your lips.
Bad noses, there’s just something about them.
Cherries on faces, dressed up in history.
Bad noses mark faces I’ve deeply loved.
May they breathe freely.