Take me down
from this
pedestal you’ve placed
me upon and
erased
my imperfect
image. View
my flaw-full
physique,
opaque
memories
of truths
under rugs you shoo.
Your equal
I’ll be
if you will
have me,
no space could
come between.
This tower is
tipping;
our hands have
been slipping.
Move quick
before our ending is seen.
