In my search for beauty br I painted this picture of the perfect Other. br I painstakingly sketched. br I added detail, form, light and color. br Over the years I chiseled my Pygmalion. br I wrote the gentleman of Shaw’s Fair Dame. br I gave him ideology and compassion. br I gave him qualifications that would gain him fame. br I placed him on a pedestal of altitude br That no human could possibly attain. br His moral standards I set at a level br That only legendary Knights could maintain. br In my memory I stored my colossus br And let the dust of busy everyday life accumulate. br At the dawn of a sleepless night, I’d clear the dust br And make sure He was immaculate. br Then out of a fairytale dream br My Pygmalion came to life. br I clung on to him br Hoping he’d see me through struggle and strife. br In my mind’s eye he was perfect. br He was the Other, a human free of every fault. br But in my blind quest for beauty br He became a spider and in his web I was caught. br In my struggle for freedom br The lessons of literature I did recall br But from his pedestal br I could not let him fall. br He lashed out, hurt and injured br Scars of his cruelty were everywhere. br But arrogantly He stood above judgment br Only because I had put him there.