Porcelain Legs

Legs moving

On a globe

Over and over the globe

Through frigid air

.

The globe is turning

The round spheres of the eyes

Are going nowhere

Only looking straight ahead

At the wall ahead

A wall decorated with a scene

Of spinning space ahead

.

Underneath the legs

Are starting to become hard

Like a china doll

They are frigid

As they pass like sticks

Scraping the world

.

No feeling

Still needing to run

The human doll

Takes her hands

And push them

Like needles in her sides

.

Stimulating pain

It pushes

And the skin

DOESN’T bounce back

Instead

A crack

.

On the globe’s sea

Shattered shards sink in

Falling into salty water

Not to reform

Until melted down to sea

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