I may be mute but I can promise you this,
I know better than most,
of this long dark abyss

I watch from afar,
all the mistakes that you make
-
and how you hastily cover them
adding icing on the cake

Though I may not be perfect
and my throat is made of ice,
I have a voice of silk,
simple yet precise

A house made of brick
I stand strong in the presence ,
of the tiny cardboard cookie-cutters
-
built weak without foundations

so kiss my hands
and bow at my feet,
bending to my will\
and admitting your defeat