I am a doll at tearoom table
Smile, nod, as I am able
Your words choke at me rich and sable
until I can not breathe.
Force fed another fable,
my limbs too stiff to leave.
Words cling to parchment tongue
cleave to throat, freeze in lung
The organ seeks a lunellum
to scrape the vellum clean.
In blank-space new words will come
and I'll say what I mean.
I mean to say--
I mean to do--
my teacup's empty,
so are you.
We sit frozen in tableau
for yet another day;
it is the playroom way.
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