I saw you to be around ten feet tall.
Maybe, eleven on a good day and twelve on a great day.
Let’s be honest with each other.
I wasn’t there for your supposed height.
It’s your mystery that mattered.
Your projected image in public.
I suppose your shyness took over.
You turned your back to gain privacy.
This must be the real you.
No shame, guilt, fear, or care in every step.
My worth depended on you.
I did not want to be alone.
We had a connection.
I searched for you months after.
You were not there, when I was here.