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Sonja Benskin Mesher
Poems
Aug 2019
.the dolls house.
the dolls house is small with pointed tracings
above the windows.
kept upstairs. unfinished & fitted with bunting
outside. a gift.
faded now.
there is not much inside.
sometimes i go to live there when
there is not much inside.
when i feel anxious,
a fragile day to hide
fragile way to hide.
peer out small windows, to peer in
make some reflection.
my bones are brittle, the skin comes drawn
now.
the dolls house .
curtains drawn, deplete to hide there.
deplete reside there while.
he made it
i use it
i photograph it
and not finish it
some things come minimal.
the dolls house
not much inside
the bones of it are
brittle.
remember.
Written by
Sonja Benskin Mesher
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