The Road Beneath Our Feet

Kevin

Once they said you were not beautiful,
even with your doe-shaped eyes, 
your nose was too big,
your mouth too small,

that no one could love you
the way you were,                               
even with a curl right in the middle
of your forehead.                      

If they gave you a key inscribed
with a poem that said “rub it thin”
before you can win,
the door would never open.

But color! Eyelashes too—earrings that sparkle, 
an outfit that fits your
height and weight – then some shading, 
some shadowing, the thrill
of transformation.

Move this man toward the light
—whose heart had died—      
as he opens the curtain and becomes alive.

— Grace Cavalieri