Paper Doll

Cut from clean paper

Some rough edges

In the construction

Clothes crafted

From the same scissors

The smile,

Tentative whispers of the pen

But there

All the same,

Dressed as imagining allows,

Some parts

Stained and crumpled,

Loved enough to wear me away,

And then

The real world has its appeal

And then you


So curled up in a drawer,

I lay down

Frozen in the recollection




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