Maiden

Your calloused hands mold a mask, a porcelain mask

And paint a face, some face, a face you thought you knew;

And the flesh is cold and proud and white

And the cheeks are red, blood red.

 

Your battered hands sew a flag, an ancient flag

And you chain the doll in ravished white

And paint the stripes in blood.

 

You shoot down the sky to catch the stars

And you drown yourself in blue.

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