I pluck it free from the throes of the bloodbath,
scissor on the perforated lines where its paper-flesh
meets the world. It complains of tinnitus, tooth decay.

I cut out a belly button from a sheet of baby’s skin, lick it,
stick it in place. She says she does not want it. I tell her
that all real girls have belly buttons. She finally agrees.

I curl her lashes. She blinks her eyes for the first time.
The fingers of her phantom limbs hide inside the drawer where
I keep my socks. They twitch while she paints her nails red.

# # #

Resurrection of a Paper Doll Cutout by Kristine Ong Muslim
originally published August 13, 2008