Your memory, a stubborn goldfish, will not leave my head.
So, for nothing better to do, I watch it as it swims
in lazy circles and I realize

that you are nothing compared to the legend of you
that I built inside my head.
With your help, disillusion, and lies
I built your statue ten miles high.
But now, from this new unfriendly angle
I can see what faulty bricks I used for its foundation,
and how tarnished it golden face has become.

My illusions about you are beginning to dissolve,
you are once again becoming human,
though perhaps that's all you ever asked for,
sometimes its hard for me to listen.
In the hurricane of my disappointment
I knocked down all of your idols.
Now in the deadly quiet after the wind, only you remain.
Naked before me you are but a tiny god, and I do not know if I like what I see.
You are no longer hidden in the shadows of your creation or mine,
and from here the daylight is less than flattering.

As responsible as I am for making you what you were not,
you share an equal burden of that blame.
I may have allowed myself to be blinded,
but you only served to encourage it.

There is truth now, where none was before, in my eyes at least.
But the statues and idols that you've built for yourself remain,
steadfast in their delusion. Those I can do nothing about.
I see you now, already itching to fall back into the safety of your shadows,
for the cool comfort that they will provide you.
Don't worry, I will not keep you long.

We all have our illusions,
without them we could not survive.
But to be content to leave them undiscovered
is a dangerous way to live.
I am moving on now, and I hope that you will follow,
I know that it may be awhile, but for that I can forgive you.

AcB 12.8.00