lunes, 29 de octubre de 2012

The Japanese Doll

I met a girl once
She was Okinawan

We went to the park
Contemplated the cherry trees

In the evenings we walked
She, never talked

First time I kissed her
Her tongue felt funny

It shrank continuedly
Tasted like wood

Next time I beheld her
She was a Japanese doll

She was so little
I could hold her in one hand

I didn't know what to do
I wanted her back too

I took her to many places
They looked at her with weird faces

We went out
But it was not the same

There was a knock at the door once
A Japanese guy came in

He said he knew about the doll
He said how I should bring her back

He told me to kiss her
So I did

He told me that was not the way
I should try to break in with my tongue

I pushed with the tip of it
A small hole appeared

On the engraved face
Small sharpened teeth

Slowly but constantly
The little doll grew

In a couple of seconds
She became the girl I knew

But not quite
She ran away with that Japanese guy

Copyright Guillermo Mathé Leguizamón 2012

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