Delicate doll of glass, a thing not meant for labor or for play, a thing made to be admired from afar, on display where you can see it and ache to explore it as much as it aches to know the touch of anyone at all.
Graceful figure, catching the light in such a haunting way.
Such slender fingers snap off so easily, it turns out, and cracks spread slowly through its crystal-clear body from your weight bearing down on it.
Together you ruin it forever as a display piece.
Yet somehow it looks so pleased now.