Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Porcelain Doll



When I was a child growing up in Italy, I did not have many toys; actually, I had one. It was a cloth doll my mother had made me. When my aunt from America came to visit, she brought me a porcelain doll. It was beautiful, but I had no idea what I could or could not do with it. Hence, I cut its hair, thinking it would grow back! Those were my days of innocence.

Porcelain doll replaced my cloth doll.
I had never owned a doll with hair.

I thought the tresses would grow back, so
I cropped beauty to match mine.

Her lashes were silky long and walnut dark
Mine were invisible - short and pale.

“Daddy, look at my doll.”
I thought she looked like me.
“You’ve ruined her, She’s ugly - tattered.”
 He threw her into the cobblestone street
I ran to retrieve shattered bones of glass.

The sock doll replaced my porcelain doll.
She was mine without hair or lashes.




© Natala Orobello

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