there once lived a monster and a doll
they met at a coffee shop;
the doll was drinking water and words by the window
and the monster was scarfing down a chicken sandwich
and a brownie
she caught his eye;
she was so, well, doll-like,
with big doe eyes the color of caramel
and long eyelashes 
and bright blonde hair that was almost white 
she was tiny
and short
the monster hadn’t realized that he was staring
until she stared back
he looked away quickly,
embarrassed and disgusted
as he felt crumbs on his mouth
she thought he was silly
and tall
or just too out of proportion for his body
and ate like a savage
she carried her delicate self
out the door
the monster followed her

the next day,
the monster sat at his usual spot at the coffee shop
and he spotted the doll come in
instead of sitting at her usual spot
she walked toward the monster
the monster’s heart raced
“you were following me yesterday”
the doll stated, her voice small
and high-pitched
“yes,” the monster said, his voice deep
“why?”
“i don’t know”
“do i intrigue you?”
“on many levels”
she raised an eyebrow
“you are not eating a sandwich” she noticed
“that is important?”
“you always have a sandwich and a brownie”
“you never have anything”
she was silent
then, laughed
“yes, that’s true”
“why don’t you eat?” the monster asked
“why do you eat so much?” the doll asked
they pondered these questions,
not wanting to answer
when it was time for both of them to go,
the monster asked,
“can i see you again?”
“perhaps, can i see you again?” she asked
“of course, i thought that was implied”
she smiled
“it was nice talking to you, monster”
“it’s been nice, doll”