Literature
About a Doll
You sit in your set position, in your set
look of emotion, your eyes buttoned
and black, nervously intact, and fixed
on me, watching as my hands
curl and then bend, watching
as they close and then open
they're assembling limbs,
just as they once did
for you.
I still remember that night, fall-like
and bleak. My hands trembled
as I stuck a needle between
both ends of your crooked head
and right into your soft stomach,
all the while laughing, bursting
with possessed joy
at the misery I had made,
the misery that is you
one doll, shredding at the seams,
unfurling at the knots, frowning;
one doll, sitting