Porcelain Doll Poem by catty Alonzo

It has been a hundred of years that you have waited for me - unwearyingly waiting still. Sitting on your ripened balcony, moistened by the passing rains and flaked by the forlorn nights. - was it that long that I have been gone? A hundreds of year, thousands of night, but your eyes had put down its lid, you must have fallen asleep my love… I can still trace the warmth gracing you from with in. living, breathing but you are delicate now… Shhhhh remain asleep, there, there, let me softly swing your rocking chair and whine you a lullaby like I once did… do you remember those days when I was with you, around you…yes, a hundred of years ago but my memory retains, it was not ill enough to run away with me…I know I made you cry – forgive me my love if I could not cry like you - forgive me if I could not taste your salty tears as it draped from your failing laughter… if I could not feel your touch beneath my porcelain skin - forgive me… but you always know that I can perceive you for never in a slightest attempt had that I forbid myself not to look at you... I may not have those feelings, may have not felt your kisses on my tinted lips, may have not felt your caress but I have pictured it the way you had described them so well, one by one, inch by inch. As I closed my eyes, remembering, imagining and your kisses are whispering in my skin, elevating me. - Long time ago…yes, long time ago… how frail your skin have become, almost see-through that it bares the line of your veins; the last time I remembered of you except that first time that I had set eyes on you, unsullied, so pleasing on your feisty look and filled with love … buoyant but a fool- that was you and still it is you, did I not tell you not to wait? Yet you did… what you want me to do with you, here I am kneeling before you, looking at your frame in the absence of life… I can not cry – I so wanted to cry but how can I cry when you never taught me how… why is it so hard to be like you, just like you - mortals who are masters of their emotion. Your strength and weakness are not mine, I wanted to feel you for real, for the last time… tracing every inch of your bones, met your loosen palm that once grip so tight, then your wired mesh like chest that once beat, leapt you and hurt you at the same time. Your emaciated cheek that had loosen its blush… warm still - let me lay you a kiss and imagine once again how it feels to be a mortal, how to feel like you did… for real I said – for real… can you hear me? Why would you have to die, you said you will breathe for me, if only I could become just like you but how can a mortal succumb out of its misery. I am trapped on this temple of perfection like of deity on their golden peplos, like of antique porcelain doll in the attic, striking, jovial but inert, easily broken but never shattered… but it has been hundred of years now, thousand of nights… long time ago, yes long time ago- hush my love… forgive me…hush… there, there. I will watch you as you sleep…if only I could be like you- then I can love - yes, I too can love…

1804*C^T