Galatea

Monster, I was, and cold. 
Manmade and bone. 
I thought of Frankenstein’s horror
as he looked upon his almost-Adam
and thought:
I will be his devil.

I thought:
I will be his abomination,
but if only it were so.
and he wanted me so.

I had become too much living,
breathing flesh.
He only wanted stone,
smooth porcelain,
what resembled a human
but was not human at all.