She's just a child,
but I'm the one who's fainthearted.
She's the woman,
but I'm the coward.
She bears that high, swollen set of breasts,
but I'm the one who's burdened.
The heavy hips are hers,
but I'm unable to move.
It's a wonder
how clumsy I've become
because of flaws
that shelter themselves
in another.