The insanity of talking dolls,
the lifeless bundle of thread and stuffing,
breathe life just by playing,
giving it a name, making a voice,
moving its limbs. Already it is real,
real name, real expression and then;
it becomes not an ‘it’ but a ‘they’
and when you come home you wonder-
at the way they sit and look out the window.
Because they move all the time-
…..Didn’t you know?
Copyright © 2014 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)
Magical, and sinister, and brilliantly told.
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Thank you 🙂
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