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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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To A Golden Maiden

 

I would take you home

and place you on a shelf

in my cabinet of gold

and silver, safe behind

 

a glass door but you

are a human figurine

and far too tall. You belong

at the Public Market where

tourists pay to photograph

your ersatz wealth, golden

face and hair, down the length

 

of your gilded gown. I know

about being a living doll

whose arms can bend

and eyes blink, with a heart

that livens when a simpatico sees

through the cover of a precious

veil. The kiss you blew

 

as I departed, landed on

my tarnished brow. Tenderness

floated back from my own plated

lips and fingers to your cheek

 

or breast. Where doesn't matter

to a fantasy.

 

—Carrie Albert



Carrie Albert