Touch Me Not

Don’t touch my porcelain skin

And leave a greasy thumbmark

Leaving a warm human stain

On what used to be cold glass

.

Poreless me, I sweat through

My eyelids, and the raindrops

Slide off like a drying old glue

On a forgotten Hallmark card

.

Like the one I send every year

In an yellowing old envelope

Greetings a lacklustre veneer

In automated wishes of hope

.

They never send back, never will

Throw my postal mail in a basket

It’s fine, just an obligation to fulfil

And I’ll preoccupy my own health

.

As I polish my iridescent arms

With a newly-washed tea towel

See the glow, reflecting charms

Of the fluorescent lighting shell

.

Look at me, I’m a marble goddess

Of alabaster and stiff appendages

But heed the museum signs, okay

And touch me not, I ask, and pray

.

Do not touch my porcelain skin

Not an inch closer of your finger

I don’t wish for cracks to appear

And I’ll thirst for human hungers

.

Do not touch my pure porcelain skin, please

Kill that curiosity early, it is all for the better

I’m perfectly placid now, I’m in a cooled cryogenic peace

And I fear your torrid emotions just might make me shatter.

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