Perfection.

To you I’m invisible, floating in vacuum. You are blind to our holy connection. When the thorn twists in your heart, I wince in pain. When you speak beautiful lies, ashes smudge my lips. You pierce me with the splintered dreams in your eyes, smearing mine with cinders. You burn slowly in the flame of life, melting my tender body away. And every time Karma slashes you, my delicate skin bleeds.

But I see you searching the world for Perfection. Perfection no one has ever seen. You search in holes of black walls hoping to find her huddled in a corner. You search in the deepest pits of the earth hoping to see her sleeping on the moist soil. You search beneath layers of the intimidating ocean, believing she will be bathing there. You look in the infinite sky, hoping to find her wrapped in a bundle of clouds. At last, you stop time and ask about Perfection. I stand right behind you, and whisper in your ear, that Perfection may also exist in Invisibility. But you are deaf to my murmurs.

You turn your back towards me. The sun is setting. Merging our shadows in a way that all the creatures of the sky freeze in awe. They cry out to you to look back. But you do not. Because you are still in search for Perfection.