Thursday, 13 June 2013



Lay still, no master to control
strings through small hands
and oblong feet. Motionless,
wooden, downbeat. No breath
to exhale from a hollow inside.
Dressed up for sale, a tease
of a forever future in a white dress and veil.
Dumped on a chair with dolls,
no eyes to gawk, or lips
to move and share. False nature,
a painted smile and stare.

 © Caitriona Hansen

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