As if I were no more than
a prize,
a trophy,
a gaudy treasure to be won,
shown off for a bit,
then set into the recesses
of some dimly lit shelf,
gathering dust and encased
by grimy panes of glass.

Well, heads up, suitors,
admirerers,
pursuers of my heart -

I will never let that happen.

12/17/2003

Author's Note: Phrase in the title - yeah, I don't like it. Can you tell?

Posted on 12/17/2003
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