He couldn't embrace me,
Or he would risk tainting his shirt.
He couldn't kiss my very red lips,
Or his might wear my red too.
He couldn't run his fingers through my golden hair,
Or he could risk it falling off.
I stared,
And scared him off.
Because if I dared to blink,
My lashes could launch us both into space.

I now know,
That if it is for him,
Perfection lives in the former,
In the one I am,
Before I add anything else.

In her,
He finds beauty he can both behold and experience.
For beauty beheld from a far is not your own.

Maria Batenga