If Umbrellas Could Talk

I wear a white dress with a pink ribbon in the hem.
I hold my white parasol,
 sit, and exchange glances with your sharp eyes.
You lean in and my lashes fall.
A red-hot poker melts a fat candle without touching it
 and the exposed wick ignites.
You just want to play around.
My strings lie loose on my chest.
Fiddle with them.
Wind them taut to a perfect pitch.
Play till they sing.
Wind, wind, wind
 till they snap.
Break them.
 All along I just wanted you to break them:
 just break them well.