Doll by Melina Raven Maness DieboldLike a doll, he sits, staring back at me, Totally enslaved by my presence.
His soft, pale, earthy-green eyes look at me.
They talk to me, silently.
I see his lips, his tender lips, like Cupid's bow they sit, poised and ready.
I embrace them. I shroud myself within his strong, solid, loving arms.
I present a kiss and place it upon his cheek.
My favor and my love for him transcends my sorrow.
He takes me to another place, safe and warm Because he is my doll.
04/02/2002 Posted on 04/02/2002 Copyright © 2025 Melina Raven Maness Diebold
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