Wax doll, eyebright no more.
Paper peels away, cherry-red beneath.
Crying wax tears, here, too.
Crumbling where you should be filling.
Chafing and breaking where you should be bouncing.
Another go around, I know.
Wasn't right this time, I am sure.
Reason for everything, yes.
But it's all little comfort.
It all pales in your presence.
Tiny stolen breaths whisper over my shoulder.
Am I there yet?
Take me home?
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