Tía Sabel (a poem using shapes)

There was this old maiden.
Tia Sabel was her name.
I always fear her trapezoidal gaze
But fancy her hour-glass shape.

Tia Sabel was called queen of hearts.
who always break them into pieces.
Yet I think she's an ace of clubs
who hides behind those three faces.

She always sits atop
The prism of her doubts.
As if she can't trust nor love
Her circle of friends and family.

She has this demeanor
Like a spade soldier.
Maybe because she's a trader
That always give clients order.

When they pay her diamonds
For those rectangular goods.
she never forgets me after.
she's much better than others.