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."