You could spend every day
in absolute devotion,
running lifting sweating
shaving plucking waxing
ironing polishing buffing,
and you would certainly be lovely.
But the agencies are hiring great danes.
And you, my dear, are a corgi.
Adorable. Spirited. With a charm all your own.
And too short for commercial use.
You could become
a photoshopped spectre of yourself.
But this season, they want greyhounds.
You, my dear, are the most striking samoyed
that I have ever seen.
But they say fluffy coats are not in this year.
And you, my dear,
are the most elegant dalmatian.
But right now it seems they only want the spotless ones.
It’s not that all the
spinning squatting lunging
steaming juicing fasting
bleaching peeling glossing
was all for naught.
You are surely lovely.
I just wish you could see
that you are already so perfectly you.