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By Liz Date: 2002 Jul 05 Comment on this Work [[2002.07.05.13.34.7777]] |
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He holds my face in his strong hands and traces work-worn fingers across my cheeks and chin and when he looks at ne there is wonder, lust, admiration, love, and I am afraid. His love is easy I have done nothing to earn it, he says the mere fact that I breathe and sing and dance is enough to make me worthy, but how can he be right, when you told me I was too much or too little of everything for anyone to ever love me. YOU said I should feel fortunate that you could overlook my flaws and take me as I am... that no one else ever would. I so want to believe him, but your voice jibes with my own, your vision is easier to believe, and I am left counting the sparse moments before he starts to see it your way. |