Miniature familiar hands of
tender, olive skin
ungracefully grasp
the plastic baby doll
to her little chest.
They twist
artificially shiny,
wax covered hair
with tiny fingertips.
Ireland,
a reissued Volkswagon,
old, new
never the same again.
"Would you like to
take your baby home?"
"My baby,"
she asserts and tosses her baby
to the ground.
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