I wonder why they didn’t like the poem. Was it the stiletto part?

Anyway, but as I was reading I kept on thinking, how small we are as men. Or maybe it is that we think of ourselves as too large, and then, when we are close to others, we see ourselves in our proper size. Not that we are big or small (talking about women and men now) but when ego magnifies the idea of self to disproportionate measures, sometimes the going back in focus is not as pleasant.

Great piece, Sally.
Pablo