Antuiqe

Her beauty was that of a porcelain doll


A composition of molded ideas to be looked at

Not touched



With strings of hair

Patched with clay

A foreign object

Here to stay



She was placed in a box

Bound by her words

Set on a mantle and hid from the world



A life like version

Turned to stone

A Gorgon sister

Without a home



The seasons changed

The box collected dust

Eventually forgotten

Lost in his lust



Adorned in her beauty

Sitting there for months

Waiting to be noticed

If only for a night



Contained by her beauty

The box began to cry

Crying out for help

How to get inside



A pretty girl

Living in a box

Grandeur was promised

Freedom; its price