Sins (He, I)

He enters when I resent so much of protection that my restless guardian has given
And, I, am still having my round, marble eyes
Glaring at the skies
Where all the angels are looking downward
Their wings are pointing down to the earth
These are my best friends, whom I disappoint and make proud of at the same time

is part my disgust and miracle
Projecting alien trails of heavy rotten breath all over my skin
Until it crawled and sunk like a rejected plank of bones
Fragile, fractured
Like a strange object float by the middle of a wide ocean

said that he likes my body smells, rather than a heaping robust aroma of afternoon coffee
seemed to like crooking his face side way to find my neck with his open mouth
rather than studying what makes me
what I am

all the lands I have walked underneath the feet, which he won't bother to join
all the smiles of travelers I have met, whom he does not bother to introduce himself to
books I love, but he does not read
songs I love, but he does not sing a long

To him,
I am just a complex structure of human flesh
That communicates appeal and desire
An object to flattery
Yet, I am flattered
To be enticed as a symbol of aesthetic
Because I have never thought that I would be enough to be wanted
Until wanting seems never enough

my mind's inferior
a challenge
yet, also a filler I keep loose
and close enough to my self-security

Now, I am sending loves to the angels hiding behind the clouds
Tapping on my feet
Hoping to answer those angels
Of where my my ground is


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