Yin Yang

I hesitate to touch the pale pallor of your skin–a mixture of Yin and Yang. Because I don’t feel worthy, in fact, I feel beneath you. I flinch when my burnt black skin mistakenly touches your snow white hands. I’m sorry, please forgive me. I feel as if I’ve tarnished a beautiful winter landscape. I’m sick, I’m contagious, I’m fatal, so don’t touch me. I don’t want to ruin you. I want you to remain pure and stay as you are. I could never match up, never compete, never ever receive the warmth and security of your touch. Because I don’t deserve it nor do I want to harm you. If you are still willing, then I can’t be the one. I can’t be the one to infect you. I want your image to be preserved nor defiled by someone as small as me. I’m sorry but I can’t be the Yin to your Yang…