paper dolls

She sits and cuts paper dolls
not the store bought kind
but rather stick figures in white
sometimes five are strung together
but she prefers eight
holding the string above her head
she calls out to them by name
susie, betty, ash, michelle
friends of past, perhaps future
she's thirty now
and sits cross legged on a white tiled floor
they have taken her sissors away
leaving only flat white paper without lines
a tear rolls down her cheek
landing on one piece
a finger's gentle touch
smile, laugh, hurt
why so much white?
friends
where have they gone?