a letter from pygmalion's girl
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i am trapped, given a mind though my
body is marble. my body is a cage, a
prison and
he carves to set me free. (his calls me his
angel, you see. it's all very romantic)

he carves, and i feel every
motion. every action is there for me
to feel, in high definition.

he loves me,
before he ever even knows me.
he lays his devotion at my feet
while i stand in my
marble cage.

and: given flesh, i sleep. he lays his
devotions below my pillow.
scents the bed with jasmine,
rose-petals and a vase of
mixed flowers.

(here is the problem: i never asked him to
do all this. never asked for this and -
how can i love him, this man who
would carve me for himself?)<...

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