Käthy Kruse

the hands that made the hands then passed her to the second set the hands that plucked the human hairs & threaded them into a wig the hands she passed her to then sewing on the little yellow jacket passing then to unknown hands that gave her eyes to see herself mouth to breathe in cotton hands to hold her head until she fell asleep two hands that made her cheeks pink in case she was called upon to blush the hands that filled her little belly full of spätzle or gruel hands that kept her upright while they sewed her tiny feet into place made her shoes & then left her there wobbling but alive alone but made of human hands of hair the petite skirt to hide her girlhood hair combed then platted maybe depending upon her mood & then the hands that transplanted the still-beating hand-made heart into her chest her covered breasts & silken brain with which käthy produced her first truly human thought: their hands have stroked my arms & legs my doll's face into dreams ... my heart that beats like a baby drum


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