honey & lime

Cardstock and wrapping paper

She is red paper,

a leftover

Valentine. I create her

with my hands. Cut out

her disproportionate head. Strips of dress

hide a clumsy figure, but circular hands

stay out on display. She cannot

hold scissors

like I can, deny her

 

mobility. I cut her leg off,

then reattach it for –

 

accuracy. She lacks a face,

a smile, a pair

of twinkling eyes. Braid

swings down to her waist, an artificial

lengthening. I find pride

 

in the grace she moves with

despite it all. My own

clumsy hands

 

cannot snip out fingers

or toes or sharp

jawlines. Instead I set her face

round, so unlike

 

the desi models

in anarkali suits. I choose

the brownest brown

paper for her skin. Look –

how lovely

 

against a bridal red. She is

fragile strength, durable

in my feathery

touch, crumples under

the pelting rain.