I've never seen him as typical
He was always more ethereal than this
A king
A god
Something and someone apart from the norm
Magical
Intense
Real
Beautiful
Especially beautiful
Beauty in his touch
Beauty in his eyes
Beauty in is voice
Beauty in his mind
Beauty all through him
Has this caused me to fall prey to what I hate done to me?
Do I want to own what should never be owned, but merely appreciated?
Perhaps I am not his and he is not mine, but we are just us.
Perhaps he is just typical
He breathes
He hurts
He angers
Perhaps he is just a man
A man any woman can have
Perhaps I am just a woman
And our elevated status is only existent in a memory
In a lifetime long ago
In a time where he was the king and I was his queen
But here,
Now
He is just a man
I am just a woman
And typical is all we have left

-KB 2016