Porcelain

I know you’re not shatterproof,

though not a china doll,

your façade, prettily painted,

my faint heart aches to see

beyond the spoof,

inside the soul, the tainted

saint, tattooed; breaks.

And can I glue the pieces

back together? Make you

believe the damage – lost

no value. Can I iron out

the creases, sever the knot

beneath; that secures the cost?

Can I? Can you?

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