And I am not a pedestal.
We are not a handful of harmless
scratches on pale pink canvas.
Today is not the day to stop
looking for the woman
to save you. What was once
ivory is wood. What was once
whalebone is cotton.
My coif and corset are duly
fastened， and your shirttail is
tied in a diamond knot.
You may be the giver
of unappreciated nicknames
and the devoted artist
who has given my still life
life. But we can never reach
each other's standards.
You want to condemn me
to eternity. I want to make you
no more perfect than you
used to be. We are not
together， we are not alone.