T and C
On my mother’s dresser was a little ceramic girl.
Dull black hair, faded blue skirt.
Curious little thing, holding half a heart,
But still with a smile fresh as first day.
Took her and placed her on my bedside.
Where is your other half?
Silly little thing, holding half a heart,
Why are you still smiling?
Found him at last underneath my father’s chair.
Dusty black hair, pink shorts nearing white.
Wonderful little thing, holding half a heart,
With a smile full of secrets.
Polished them clean — refreshed and young once more
Facing the sunset, at last they’re together.
Happy little things, holding one whole heart.
No wonder you’ve never stopped smiling.