Porcelain

you think I can't be broken

because you bought me for the night

like a toy without seams,

smooth, silent, willing

-

you do the things

you can't do to your wife

rough edges, splintered want

pressed into my skin

-

and somewhere,

you know—

I am porcelain

thin, delicate, waiting to crack

-

but you won't be here

to pick up the pieces

when I shatter

-

so you don’t care

-

and I—

I envy you, bastard,

how easy it is

to walk away whole

while I sit here,

collecting shards

with trembling hands

the only one

left to pretend

I was never broken

.