I am a walking talking
Mother doctor wife machine
My wild spirit chained into stillness
By loving hands

Look at these small bodies
Nesting on my lap
Feeding off my body my mind

The people in hospital beds
Looking for the solution
To all their troubles

His hands on my body
Exploring his own desire
Drawn onto my body

Which part of me is mine?

I grieve for the poems
Drawing a map of my soul
Failing in the beauty of the form
My body a mirror of this
Carrying me so adequately
Beauty and grace absent to others eyes

Like a bat sending an echo
I am forever measuring
The distance between our hearts

The expressions on your face
The tone of your voice
The words you choose

Forms a complex calculation
I use to calibrate my compass
To adjust my position to safety

When you suddenly move so close
I could reach to touch you
My compass is spinning wildly
You are there
But where is your heart