---

It is hard to look at her,
She holds my gaze and it stings my eyes,
An ache that threads
Through my brain.
As hard as I try I cannot think
Of what reason she would give
For accompanying me.
And I don't ask, in case she cannot either.
I look upon her as though a stranger,
What brought us here?
What absurdity that we two have any connection?
Every day
I am the understudy
Disconcertingly drafted in,
To convince of a character
That is greater than I,
That no one expected me to truly ever be.

Oh the grace, the strength,
That she has never realised she has;
As it would have been the death of us,
And surely the making of her.

Loyalty in her reaches new heights,
Beauty has taken a new turn,
Inadequacy has found a new name
And it is mine.

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