Like 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 © 2024 Melina Raven Maness Diebold