doll was created many years before she came into my care
but we don’t know why or by whom
she rested for many years amongst glass vessels
a bird wing on a shelf above
and stones on a shelf below
perhaps some of this is true
we would like to believe so
doll is now no more (nor less)
than photographs which document her last glancing acts
and her destruction, along with the glass vessels she had unblinkingly watched over for so long
no particle of falling dust escaped her gaze
no ticking clock counted her time
(as it was for the dolls that came before and the dolls that will come after)
doll lives and dies in a constant unbreakable cycle
her alchemy has no beginning nor ending
she does not know when the end will come
she does not feel pain, grief, anxiety
nor happiness, love, peace
(she is an inanimate doll)
if a hammer hadn’t broken her,
eventually she would have crumbled into dust,
perhaps hundreds or thousands of years from now
