Dollface/Real Girl Poem by Anya AlkayevVolkov

You can make her like a diamond,
multi-faceted,
she'll sparkle.

The millions of tiny faces she wears,
each completely different for each person
she lets into her life.

Lips like a make-up ad;
glossy and pouting
ready to pass the words
that cripple egos
stab backs
twist that knife as if the initial shock wasn't
painful enough.

Eyes so clear, so large
you'd think they were
glass.
Thick lashes, vamped manicure.
Slide her panties down
down,
down,
those mile-long legs.

Because she can't do it herself.
She comes equipped with
3 openings,
all fully functional.

Choose the colors of her character
Sure, it'll set you back at least 6 grand.
But you won't be lonely anymore.

You'll have someone to come home to,
waiting with a smile.
She won't object to anything, she'll never talk back.
She'll just sit there and suffer silently
with that sultry sex-kitten look on her
silicon face.

The only drawback is when you say
'I love you'
She won't say it back.
Never.
No matter how hard you slap her
or beat her
or cry
or beg
or stomp around.
No, she can't hear you, and she can't speak.
Why?

Because she's a doll, your pathetic substitute for human interaction