Open Eyes.

They all yearn him;
Struggling,
With the idea itself,
Overwhelmed.

Yet
Perfection,
Sleeps beside me.

Holding
Me tight,
Caressing my wrinkle
And kissing my blemish
He sleeps peacefully.
And to tell a secret,

Snores quietly.
Exaggeratedly divine
An idol carved
To suit his name.

Yet
My neck
Breathing under his arm
And my body
Naked
Under his tender touch
Lie awake

In memory
Of
My Imperfection.
Together,
We make

Still

My complete picture.
Of what reality
Could have been.
Otherwise;
In perfection.