I am so lonely
I sit in the black darkness
Wishing it were grey.

I am a cyberwoman
Delete, delete, delete.
It's true, I do remove
The too, too much.
I rearrange, and chop, and change,
I know that you will always read
The sigh between the lines,
And maybe you, too have things that you have written,
then hidden away.
Maybe, you, too, are frightened of
The neversaid, the ever left unread.

You make me feel wistful
With your tight bellies, limpid eyes and endless manes of hair,
You make me feel afraid.

Dainty Angels,
I can't...Quite...Remember...

You make me feel jealous
With your waiflike allure, sad vulnerability, delicate beauty,
You make me feel inadequate.

Fairy Foundlings,
I won't...ever...be....

You make me feel ancient
Outside, dated and decrepit.
How do you feel? What do you need?
Why are you all so sad?

My dreams are your nightmares.
I tasted raindrops once, too
I almost have it, almost understand.

Impregnation
Inevitably results in conception
You are prolific,
And I, so very fertile.
The gestation period varies
I, heavy with creation
Give birth to words.
Our children delight us
One day, they too
Will speak, and seed.

We the hidden, now exposed
I cannot find my home.

My dance is despair,
All is salt-sweet, where is she
Who calls the us, the we?

Why do I fly
And where do I go?

The here is a tangle of
Too much bright delight
I fall, I fly, it is un-right

Lost, alone, I spin
Imploding from within
I have what we need
But the others are not here

Wet comes
In bitter spurts
And I know fear
I am afraid.

I had no need to know of this
Going, I, alone
Wings rip each drip
Oh, I go

We the hidden, now exposed
I cannot find my home.