pygmalion ears

nothing in life makes as much sense
as what you told me, just that once
(which, as it turns out, I misunderstood
) are

you sure?

that you didn't mean that thing?
When nothing in life or reality
has ever made near that much sense to me

I swore
you were a genius, with
my best interests at heart
and I counted myself blessed,
in a universe

that had fallen into place, but

can just as easily fall apart:
it was only a work of art

my mind (or heart, or soul)
had sculpted

truth or beauty, but
alas, not both

some form took shape upon your words
that the pure marble of your intent
never meant

these curves, I chipped, smoothed and polished
in an instant

and conceived
what I wanted to hear.
I have trespassed upon

you,

but I was
I swear,

completely sincere

for a minute
I thought

it
was
all so clear.