Paper hearts for wooden souls. Wooden souls for men with minds of cellophane who yearn for women made of air (sweetly scented air) encased in expensive, crystal bottles.
Only the plump sofa is sincere, pleasant in its dowdiness. And the radio, in love, spends its day warbling serenades to it.
Lourdes Tutaine-Garcia is a novelist who has published several poems, the last of which appeared in Avocet.