The Doll and Her Silhouette

By Michelle Pardo

Pure blood and a perfect doll doing what she’s told,
With hands shackled to a reality she can’t hold,
A mind that doesn’t have feelings or plans to be bold,
Porcelain skin powdered with blush but ever so cold.
The softest voice that mumbles sounds and not her views.

White teeth that smile and chewed but didn’t bite,
Emerald green eyes that admired the world without sight,
Her life was always gray except for everyday after tonight,
Looking at the boy with raven black hair and eyes so blue and bright,
His presence was to see the obscure mind of this maiden.

Suddenly our doll was gripped into his arms but safe in her secret garden,
Swaying around and telling him how she used this as her own den,
Where she hid from lectures of rich, “wise,” old women,
Or the ogled looks of wealthy, sleazy, old men,
Concealing books and reading them in this corner of her world.

There was an unknown trust that gave him her hidden notebook,
How for days on end she wouldn’t talk but stay and look,
Turning blank pages into poems of what her parents took,
Her elders not knowing of the secrets she found in every nook,
But they had forgotten that the sun, moon, and truth are never hidden.

There was a ‘good man’ in her dad that she would always miss,
So many pieces of her childhood had been erased and left amiss,
She remembered the ‘medicine’ given and gave a sigh of bliss,
Already she knew him as he reassured her with more than one kiss,
After all, what daddy didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Caressing her blonde hair and staring at a sky with a midnight hue,
Only then did he ever tell her about his life and all that he ever knew,
That he was an orphan and there were things that he would always rue,
His parents had left him a map to a fortune that with each year grew,
It was hidden here inside the attic of this Victorian mansion.

Suddenly, his whole reason for coming deeply sank in,
He didn’t come for her, just the money and what he could win,
Quickly her head was clear and her heart started to get dry and thin,
She would forget him and retrieve the book and hair pin,
Hating him but believing that this night was real and true love.

Yes, there was deceit but when she left, in her hands was his heart,
And she was running away with hers injured by his dart.
Blushing with shame as daddy had seen them before depart,
Under his control she was forced to leave from her love apart,
Guards grabbed and beat him while she was brought to grandma.

A few months and she could forgive all that she misunderstood,
He only wanted to get what was his and live as he should,
He was let loose after two weeks, looking since then for a love pure and good,
Imagining whisking her off her feet to live as best as they could,
But as if on cue they met at the garden and fell into the others arms.

Both knew that their love grew stronger through brevity,
He was the contour lines and she was the face of love’s eternity,
All her hopes and dreams he would make reality,
Time made their separation extend but their hearts were pulled by gravity,
Alas, was Robin Hood married and escaping with his Maid Marian.

They recovered and left to get the fortune in the attic,
Him breaking the lock and her tearing through the porcelain and plastic,
Leaving her dungeon poor with family but rich with love and ecstatic,
Seeing her father stricken and her mother acting so dramatic,
A letter was left saying, ‘the doll and her silhouette.’