a scene cut from us, wholesome ethereal beings
you complaining about symmetry
and how it bothers you to be so far from perfect.
wish i understood the treason you felt
by means of genetics
because you're far from being symmetrical
but you were very close to my idea of perfection.
even your rusty lips,
your hollow ribs,
your small hips
it all seems to fit quite well
into my real needs.