There you sit, my beautiful china doll, behind your glass case
Your perfect golden ringlets tossed across perfect, porcelain skin
Your blue glass eyes settle on me, seemingly calling as fervently
As fervently as I long for you.
But do you not see me as I see myself?
(Perhaps the glare from your glass distorts your view?)
I am a reckless child, too irresponsible to be trusted with anything like you
I will take you by your gossamer gown to my school yard
I will wage you in war against statuettes of horses and dragons
(Always making you the victor)
We will drink tea, your gown absorbing what your mouth cannot.
I will tell you all my secrets, and kiss your perfect skin with jam-stained lips.
I will tear apart your perfect curls, forcing them into sloppy braids
(To match my own, of course)
My arms will be your display case, holding you worn and tattered next to my heart
Your skin made dirty and warm by mine
My love is dangerous, a passion that blazes so bright that it scalds
A love that squeezes the life from the lover, knowing not the binds of thoughtful restraint
What happens to your value, then, when the marks of our time together grow many?
Or will you gain a deeper, inherent value, simply by the eternal truth that you
Above all others, are loved?