Promise me one thing, my darling
That you’ll only see beauty when you look within.
In the calm wake of puddles
Staring back at you in windows
Promise me you’ll love her for who she is
And not what will never be.
Don’t laugh at yourself when the puddle erupts in rippled deceit
Or thirst after the faded shadows of the reflection.
She is no more beautiful than the lies you tell yourself.
She is not better than.
She does not exist
So do not give birth to her.