I am porcelain and clockwork
springs and wheels
to the tune of your wants.
i am your precious doll
with skin that makes you
in awe before you touch.
Touching is against the rules.
rules that could not
keep angry palms from streaking
across my cheeks
to leave a thousand stinging wasps in their wake.
see me now? cogs spinning in frustration
because you stand there
singing songs about
i want to believe. i don't want to be bound by my own inhibitions.
but i sit here on my lonely shelf
trembling; a child who knows that the monsters
the bed are stalking her.
confused as a mime told to speak.
i am a mime.
i want to love you. i do love you - with every
conscious thought and gesture
i just can't say it.
porcelain lips won't move.