oh my duplicitous Pygmalion!

while you were sleeping,

i was years away…

… trapped,

as you would say –

contained within my pre-assembled tomb of ambiguity.

but there is where i find –

i,

my – me…

and while you walk in circles

around my truth,

expecting walls of nonchalance to crumble,

i smile –

free of your contagious animosity…

how simply –

archaic!

your words,

so fervent in their request to be my savior –

however,

your eyes do not invite –

and your clinched fists can never hold these trembling hands…