Brittle

‚ÄčMade with love, whatever that is

Here’s a porcelain doll

For you to break with your kisses

Warm but cold and no qualms 

Honey charred your eyes turn to

The pieces of her scarlet

Ripe and crushed, beyond undo

The heart shaped throbbing garnet

“It’s just China” blushing you say

“Fashioned for final crash 

Mindless, thoughtless, too much to pay

One could not be too rash”

Her Gaze of glass, your spine of steel

Spirits of smoke in both

Shapeless, weightless, none can feel

brittle shells of broken oaths

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