how can you love someone
who yields so easily to the crush of your body
pushing her backwards,
posing her into seductive shapes on
your dirty sheets.
who submitted, so docile
to your fumbling hands in the back seats of cars
yet stared, dispassionate
counting the chinks in the ceiling
as your muscles spasmed and you clawed her back
in your sudden ecstasy
the other boys have their paper goddesses and goth girls and
right hands in their pockets,
you have your china doll.
She’s not a real girl but
you can drape her over your arm at parties
and kiss her goodnight as her eyes wander
over your shoulder into the blank space beyond.
“ I love you too”
she murmurs the obligatory response.
some day, when your foolish youth has passed you by,
you’ll realize
that her words were as plastic
as her dead blue eyes.
