Thread: Miss Mannequin

I am fashioning a mannequin
with simple, elegant curves and black coal-like buttons.

She has soft cotton casings.
She has pure ivory legs.

But I can’t find her blue eyes,
and I can’t find her hair;

I can’t find her precious lips,
and I can’t find her long white nails.

There she stands before me,
unmoving like a corpse;

Simply being,
simply being.

And there she stands,
because ignorance and bliss and how can I destroy that shield

when I know what two eyes, two lips, two ears
can do.

And how can I be the one who brings her into this world and says,
You’re on your own, darling.

The image presented in this piece is fascinating and vivid. Very nice!

I think some economization can happen in the last three stanzas, but the first few couplets are just beautiful.