He is beautiful.
I desire him.
I do not know him.
This is the first time I have seen him.
But from one glance I know...
He is beautiful.
And he's a janitor.
Is this a paradox?
Maybe if I call him a caretaker. Or a custodial engineer.
No. The truth is he cleans up after us.
This does not seem right.
Such beauty should never have any connection to a toilet bowl.
"Your beauty is enough!," I shout in my head.
"Stop what you are doing.
You should be a slave to nothing.
You are too beautiful.
You must be free"
My inner-rant is futile.
His beauty is only enough for me.
His beauty means nothing to the world.
sigh....
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