I longed for one possession I could prize
above all others, like a heroine
of tales or lore, of humble origin:
a single doll of rags that in my eyes
and arms was cherished without compromise.
I owned too much for rarity to win.
I longed for one.

Sometimes I’d play a role. I’d fantasize
about a single plaything, hold within
my mind a treasure to protect, begin
a story donning penniless disguise.
I longed for one.