What shall I tell you of me?  She asked
All of it.
The dark,  the sordid,  bits wrapped in silk, the nice things?. She nodded,  awaiting the refusal
All of it.
Trust me,  try me. He whispered gently.
But I might look different then she countered
How can the person I see now change by yesterday’s words?  Or actions from another life?
You might not like who you thought I was…
But as I know so little and I need to see more it can only give me understanding
Of what?  She questioned
Of you.  I want all of you.
I need no perfect specimen to stand in a showcase
I want a real person and she stands here
So please allow me in,  allow me all of it.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015