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 clenched fists can never hold these trembling hands…
standing too close to the edge 