Showered in her sweet longing
I can tell I would have belonged here
There's only beauty in her calling
I've seen my beauty wracked in fears

So when her fingers brush me softly
she does not wash away sadness
she hopes to light me up
see my heart beat
so that how I treat her
matches
her love.

Yet, perfection isn't enough
I have handed all I own
I am hers to mold

I am pretty.
I am sweet.
I put her first.
I kiss her feet
I give her gifts.
I make her chief.
I am not enough.
I feel no love.


because I have already loved
but love does not exceed death

So her love
this attempt of mine
can only be a mess.