by Leslye Joy Allen
If you love someone
the worst place for them
is a pedestal, which
was built to hold
statues, figurines, bric-a-brac,
and yet, it cannot hold anyone you love
or expect to love,
as these objects of your affection, always and
too often, fall from these podiums and break bones and smash
images, sturdy and fragile, that never
could withstand that inevitable tumble to earth where you knew
they would eventually land,
that is, if
you ever really expected to embrace them and immerse yourself in
the fullness and richness and contradictions of
their humanity, rather than in that narrow space of where you assumed
them near perfect, a space
that you could never even occupy yourself
nor in the cement plaster idolatry of
the legend you
imposed on them.
Please, no pedestals.
Copyright © 2012 by Leslye Joy Allen. All Rights Reserved.
(I have been blessed with wonderful teachers who have insisted that my being a historian had nothing to do with my ability to write something other than history. Much love & respect to my two favorite Partners-in-crime: Poet-Professors Dr. Waqas Ahmad Khwaja & Dr. Steven Guthrie of Agnes Scott College.)
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