Down My Back

Bits of lace lay strewn on the ground,
broken doll parts litter my bed,
silk intertwined with scissors
lie neatly in my lap.
I gaze out the window,
The mist of fog cooling my face,
I close my eyes and listen to the rain,
falling in rapid succession
some upon my closed eyelids,
drops break and warm on my skin.
A face appears in my mind,
one I cannot place
he wears a warm smile
with undying love in his eyes.
He alludes me mockingly
with every step I take,
but I suppose I can wait.
I can hear the rain fall harder
forcefully beating the ground,
I trace the scissors, cold metal in my hands.
I open my eyes to chase his face away,
porcelain doll eyes reflect his face within.
Fathomless blue eyes taunt as I
reassemble her pristine form
wrapping her in silk and lace,
whole, beautiful, fragile,
but his face still lingers.
I lay her on my dresser
and wind my music box
to play a lullaby.
At last, I succumb to the dream,
as This Old Man plays behind,
allowing myself the troublesome pleasure
of dreaming about what I have not yet found,
to lie enveloped in his arms
as daylight peers inside.
Lullaby, Lullaby, now I will to sleep,
“Knick knack, paddy whack”,
Trace kisses down my back.