She was my greatest secret at no more than three.

I made myself the protector of her firm integrity.

Deeming her of such importance that I kept her close to me.

She was afraid to be constrained by her own mentality.

I loved her with every beat of my restricted heart.

But she was still a secret, chained in fear that she may depart.  

She wore a dress, made of a single sheet of glass.

Her constitution precious, like a thin sheath of brass.  

While she lives in me, no one can hurt her or take away her purity.

I had known her, as she had known me; since the tender age of three.