There's something about definitions

that sends me to a place of discomfort

What does it mean 

To be perfectly defined?

I keep staring at this sea of puffs on my head

And as they stare back at me

I can imagine them asking

"What else do you want?

We're not perfectly defined for you.

You want us to make you look good

So you massage us with oils and water

You fold our arms and legs up overnight

Tie us up with satin ropes

Threatening us to make you look good for tomorrow

You want us defined

But yet we've tried to show you

In our coming together we are defined

In our separation, we are defined.

What more do you ask?

Have you not noticed that we

Always come back to ourselves?

When we shrink,

We are only going back to safety

It's all we know.

We are only cringing at the thought of you

Expecting us to form shapes or stretch our limbs for you.

That simply is not who we are

We are defined

We just ask that you accept us the same way when we are not bound."



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