for years I thought girls bodies were made from plastic
like the tiny tears doll
I used to play with in the attic
I never told the world
I did girlie things
squeezing dolls to make them cry
boys aren’t supposed to do these things
but they seemed so much more powerful
than my action man's, eagle eyes
all scars and levers to look tough
sometimes the man just has enough
of being hard.

I wondered if tiny tears could hear me
when I tried to comfort her
I didn’t want to see her cry
but curiosity gets the better
hurts the ones we love
as we expand
no instructions on comforting her
am I squeezing too hard?

I asked action man to help
and like a hero, he brought her more water
but that was the wrong thing to do
that was all he knew
it was not for the want of trying.
I have built a paddling pool to catch the tears
but its not deep enough
to hold the depth of love poured out
I attach everything to you.
for that is who I am
and the tide mark rubbed off
but I didn’t want it to
I wished you to tattoo me forever
roll-back your mascara eyes.

that was thirty years ago
I am not soft
I am a man.

I now realise girls are made of flesh
just like me
as I find the real you and Tiny Tears has gone
become a relic of the heart
she stopped functioning, i left home
we grew up and they discarded her
she was never mine anyway
and that hurts
and yes,
some girls cry when you squeeze them
and I resemble action man some days
when I just cant be bothered to shave
and when it seems I misbehave and act the un-emotional
you know its not me.

and as for my eagle eyes
they move in many directions
but they always end up on you.