Priscilla doesn’t want to be called pretty.
She doesn’t mind it
but wishes they would see something else
but her looks –
like her humor
or her speed
or the length of her handstands
or strength of her convictions.

She’s got a lot more to offer
than just her face.
Sometimes
she wishes they would insult her
instead of offering cliche
heaped on cliche.
If someone would just say
“Here’s why I hate you,”
it would at least be more direct.
More true.

She doesn’t want to make a big deal
about the physical.
She’s glad to be seen
but somehow wishes
she was seen differently.