Your unsteady steps on
The surest of floors
And you were never certain or
Balanced.

Layers of makeup used to mask
The heavy doubt wrought by social judgment
And disguise the years lived.

The disguises fell apart in the face of
my megaphone self
Leaving us both vulnerable but wanting.

We sit frozen in time
– An impasse of a higher order –
And await the final, frail decision.