in the Before Choice Disturbs
I'm a tin soldier with a toy heart when it comes to you.
Smile painted on my metal face.
Solid frame hides my inner gears.
The works of love, with you as watchmaker.
I'm a fearsome toy-tool when it comes to you.
Rigid and marching I tromp down the shag.
All the while you ensure
The wind is always at my back.
I'm your toy, and you're my child.
Leave that velveteen rabbit in the closet, sweetheart.
His soft, unformed body
Isn't enough for hands to wrap around.