by Andrew M. Harbach14 Jul 2014
Deeply troubling is the preponderance of whether I do, or will ever have the assets for such exquisite figures. Why must you be so perfect? Such bronzed in tone but gold in stature, nothing silver, being that there be nothing mediocre about you. The collective "you". Because linked together you make up a longing that only longs that I were to be better. And though you may not flaunt in your intention, my attention twists your aim into a pining over the stunning flawlessness I can never have. Fantasia closes the door and locks it. Her nails clawing deep into the confines of your dug-out fort from the world's spotlight. With her imaginary curves, you envision with each glance of each "you" a life inclusive of both our lives. A life in which the courage I never once have had, allows me to approach, to gentle manner and conducive likeness.