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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's about the dismissive nature of us. Look more closely and you will see more clearly.

Submitted: January 08, 2012

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Submitted: January 08, 2012



You can try and fool the others, the colossal others, who in their thousands secretly photograph you for their albums, their ricordi. They want to immortalise you, keep you for perhaps as long as you have stood there, right there, on your beloved pedestal.

Yes, it is beloved. And not just by the public, but by you as well. I see your hard lips, an ancient pout. It gives you away, it is no different a facade than the people you see stamped, preening on the covers of glossy magazines. Petrified Poser, it appears you have an ego to match your fame.

It isn’t really your fault though. You were born beautiful. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say, and oh! How you have been held in the eyes of so many. So many sightless eyes. All those who believe you to be dead stone have not seen what I have seen. Your eyes are open, aware with a blank stare as unbreakable as your body. Marble veins, flowing marble blood, are etched into smooth white skin. And your legs are apart, ready to run, jump, skip and yet you do the very thing you were only ever meant to do: stand. You are forever obedient. Forever here. People will always be able to see you, standing still, towering above. But people don’t know you choose this, you were not put here, you just stayed here.

David, by pretending to be rock you have never looked so alive.

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