use me.

I have never really
been ornamental.

sure, porcelain. 

shiny pennies.

dewy sunlight, 

jingling between your

fingers. but what 

purpose is this 

tenderness, this 

sharpened wit, 

this mischievous 

insight, eyes that peer 

through you to 

your hidden core.

sure it’s beautiful, but

when will it be useful