Imperfection

Bit to the quick;
My nails are pink and frail
From years of bad habits.

Cuts and scrapes,
Scabs on my knuckles;
Sometimes I’m clumsy.

Small and dainty,
Though my knuckles
Are larger than I’d like.

Adorned with rings:
Gold, pearls, amethyst.
Most of them older than I.

And yet, all of my
Imperfections mean nothing,
When your hand is in mine.