My Doll

Oh my love, how terrible our skin is.
The borders of our forms keep us so far apart
How awful it is that our spines are delicate
I could hold you tight and hear our bones crack
I’d squeeze and squeeze until we cough and hack

And what could it be, that others call grotesque
With a love so bright and intense as this
Maybe I am the fool, but I feel like the master
A romance that burns like ours is sure to turn heads
As we bathe in our own deep, deep reds

Have you ever thought, wondered about dolls
Threads and cloth drawn together by gentle pulls
With love for a child as their hand deftly moves
Unconditional love fills me the same as my needle sews
A rush of carnal desire rages in your painful throes

Aches and pains mean nothing with our hearts beating together
Now I wonder if our souls are close
And so I remove us from our mortal tether.