the stream of silence reins
odious realms of tenderness
it doesn't seem real
but it is,
this awkwardness,
desire,
and truth,
it stands between us and them
making that perfect fit,
into Cinderella's shoe
but, it can not be.
this prince is not hunting,
dreaming, or even looking
a lowly girl like me
can only wonder
what it's like to be in love

"One might the same argument about harmony, lyre and strings, that a harmony is something invisable, without body, beautiful and divine in the attuned lyre, whereas the lyre itself and its strings are physical, bodily, composite, earthly and akin to what is mortal.
Then if someone brakes the lyre, cuts or breaks the stings and then insists, using the same arugement as you, that harmony must still exist and is not destroyed because it would be impossible for the lyre and the strings, which are mortal, still to exist when the strings are broken, and for the harmony, which is akin and of the same nature as the divine and immortal, to be destroyed before that which is mortal; he would say that the harmony itself still exist and that the wood and the strings must rot before the harmony can suffer."-Plato's Phaedo