Dwelling Place

~a series by Leticia Tuset

Living in Comparison

I see pictures on Instagram

Of what it is to be beautiful –

Big bust

slim waist

and hips a mile wide.

Supple skin

hairless bodies,

every inch oozing

sex-wetness –

Perfectly Thick Women.

I see pictures on Instagram

Of what it is to be wanted,

but I feel unseen and


So pillows and fingers

placed in between legs

as I imagine myself


to feel something like affection…

...(not love)...

But after

I hate this cage of flesh.

It is stupid

It is a hypocrite

It is a liar

The girl in the mirror is charmless,

An outline of nothing

You might as well saw off her breasts

And sever her genitals

Because she

Will Never.



A Ruined Temple

She feels distant from herself,

Distant from God,

a ruined temple.

The fibres are hollow,

The sinews are weak,

The pillars are crumbling.

Let them crumble.

Let her cavernous dark

Be pierced with light,

A light that fills her

Warms her.

A Light that shines.

The Lies I Used to Live By

People don’t notice me.

Boys don’t notice me.

I’m not good enough to be noticed.

Being sexy is important.

Sex appeal is high self-esteem.

If he wants to have sex with me,

that’s a compliment.

More Power To Her

If her butt is bigger than mine,

God bless her.

If her hair is silkier than mine,

How wonderful.

If she’s got a laugh that fills up the room,

snaps for that.

If she’s got style,

Yes, Queen!

If there’s something in her I envy,

turn it to Admiration,



Lift her up and I will be lifted

‘Til all of us are

Arm in arm.

In The Image of God

No one has a voice

like I do –

Humming, I speak sonnets.

What flows from my mouth

Is fluid as water.

No one frames their face

like I do –

With soft sideburns

Laying down graciously

Curling up gloriously

Yes, I love them,

Because they are mine.

No one’s hands match

My stitching.

The graceful digits

Long and lovely,

The palm

Perfectly cupped.

My body is no mistake,

No half-finished work.

No one else

Could wear me better

Leticia Tuset