My Doll

 

Such a porcelain sheen

I am tempted to stamp

across your bosom

under your armpits

 

Truly a wristwatch

in a world of lumps

May you be always

Be still, my love

 

Your presence reminds

Your eyes flash upon

You cannot compare

But only stare

 

Like liquid stones

of solidifying flesh.

delusions still themselves

With you near my chest

 

Woody