Sometimes I wish I was more like Her.

Sometimes I wish I was more like her. I wish I was her size, an easily saved damsel, a waif to your masculinity.
I wish I had her face, one structured by the angels, angular and photogenic.
I wish I had her lips, pouty, soft and pursed with all the right things to say.
I wish I had her hands; when she touches you, feel both love and weak in the thighs.
I wish I had her eyes that shift like a kaleidoscope, keeping you mesmerized.

I am no mirror; reflecting back your desires you project on a woman.  I am ugly and I am real. I am honest and I am true. I too, know what it is to wake up to a world ready to burn you at the stakes. Should I burn beside you, is a decision only for you to make.