Mornings she practises constant walking And purifying her mind, How to overcome the forces of the attack
If you’re going to pay city taxes At least find a see-saw, Stand in line beside the girls With ponytails and wait
I am full but emptiness will still gust through me I am full but longing will drip a moment before the new mother’s retreat.
Grasping the gates, Hunched over Fielding cries after the pain caught within her Something is opening.
I rose early tied by a cord to your wellbeing Which is unknown, To forty hidden days To the fear of gathering clues that go to waste.