I stand before him

Carved in stone

Every line is his

As I run my fingers down his face.

I touch a finger onto his eyes –

I’ve always loved his eyes.

Trace his lips

With my mouth

Cold stone does nothing

But thinking it is him,

I continue.

Take off my shirt

Because if there is one thing

I’ve always wanted to do

Is feel his chest up against mine.

I close my eyes

Pretend he is holding me close

Kissing my forehead

Touching parts of me

That are his.

People go by

Mumbling about my breasts

Or the shirt laying on the ground

But say nothing of a woman

With her arms around a statue

Trying desperately to get it to love her.

 

On my knees in front of him

I break a loaf of bread

Offering him half

If only he would get it.

 

A woman whispers to me

How crazy I seem

How everyone is talking about me

Loving a statue

That would never love me back.

I told her

I’m not the crazy one.

She told me I should straighten up

Act like a lady

Find a man

A real man.

I told her

Perhaps you don’t know what real is

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