the ornament
he
holds up to the light by
the hook of her jaw.
The sunrise filters through curtains
catches glass in gold,
his eyes sparkle back
in seafoam.
Her flaws illuminated by
morning light shining through
cracks, the bruises of being used
too carelessly.
He never saw the scars
he saw art and wondered how
he had found such a creation.
He,
becomes a marionettist
in the soft release of her jaw,
lips pulling back into a smile
revealing the strings left attached
unintentionally.
She
for the first time
will not try to cut them,
but lets him move her
and so
she dances.