Grace

Alabaster pale skin, 

   delicate bow of rose pink lips,

   you still remember open in ecstasy.

A beautiful wildflower on a sheltered sunny meadow. 

So wholesome, graceful and pure. 

Beckoning you with a mischievous knowing smile

   into the land of fairy.

Speaking sweetly to the longing in your heart.

If only you could scrub off the grime and the soot, 

   and forget how broken you are. 

How I wish I were her, my love. 

It is not jealousy, you see, but understanding. 

I too, would leave everything behind 

   for the life I thought I would have.  

For the promise of forgetting who I have become instead,

   and how broken I am, too.