I, Your Jester, a Beast

 See me through your glass eyes
Rosy as they may be
Forged not of molten sand,
Rather, of charcoal on tired hands
And rain that pelts the sidewalk
Warm, in a summer of sticky heat

I wish I was sorry

Do not take me for who I am
I will embrace that which you are
Into my mannequin arms
I will do for you as should be done
I am your jester
Your stained glass windows are my court

You are my impressionist
You are my interpreter
You paint my portrait whilst looking into a mirror

You have always been the naive beauty
The first fall of burnt leaves
I will always rake them away
And you will always scatter the piles
Let's skip stones into the still ocean
The waves halt themselves in awe of you

Perhaps I am the one that is truly naive

Beneath my silver scales that reflect your image
Beneath the tar black skin, hardened and beaten by weather
My heart pumps in rhythm to your sweet melody
This is the secret that I keep

Alas, perhaps, one day my reflective outside shall shatter
And stab into my hardened skin
Do you think that you will be poisoned
By the mercury that flows from the wound?

My best friend
Pure companion
Budding bloom
Forbidden fruit
I'm sorry for loving you