Doll-like you recline limply, passively
Filling the draped patterns of fashion
With supple limbs, little girl ripples on
A lax tummy. On a shelf captively
Placed, someone’s possession absently
Waiting for attention. Yet your prison
Eyes smolder. Tight tangible inaction
Pouring tensile emission pointedly
Toward my breast. I stop disbelieving
The promise pinched and narrow. I succumb
To steely beams piercing my heart made numb
On cold metal offer. By complying
I take the impaling weapon to heart
And wield it as a knight to beauty’s art.
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