Sad Labels:
clarity
There was a doll that would cry when I turned it over. A plastic harpoon of sounds wedged up its puffy, pink ass. Prerecorded tears splintering out its rear like so many blades of dead grass.
There were many dolls. I'd dress them and cut their hair with scissors bigger than my head. The molded plastic of their handles chaffing my thumb as I held them in the wrong hand. I was their parent and teacher. Their god and their devil. While the batteries conspired to silence the tears of the only doll I've ever understood.
Her white dress with eyelets at the neck and hem. Her pink smile stalled in a moment of happiness. Her zippered pink ass giving away our secret.
The perfect arithmetic of submission. Adding us up. And dividing by the remainder.
I dont know what you imply with it but the post is somehow alluring.
The perfect arithmetic of submission. Adding us up. And dividing by the remainder.
These lines are like opening a shoebox and finding a spiral staircase within. Excellently constructed.
de.vile: i probably shouldn't explain it. tht would just ruin it.
jason: pretty stunning metaphor in your comment.
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