You sit pretty
You’re face like stone
Chiseled and aging
But you are the same
The only thing to remain here

I pass you everyday on my stroll
To the market
And I glace in your direction
With hopeful eyes
Hope for mineral to flesh

While you brush past me on streets
In postcards
In my dreams
Scampering by me in hallways
That I’ve dreamt up

And on nights when my room
Feels like a prison
Icy and barren
I sit by your feet and
Gaze at the stars
And wish that one-day
You’ll wake up