~
She reads the flaxen paper on her wall,
sees its patterns,
touches them.
They project her confusion in cold chamber light.
Stained hands,
convoluted heartbeat,
she creeps into the wall's design.
"Hysteria every time she opens her mouth," said the doctor.
"Rest will cure her."
She is nostrum,
and not permitted
to participate in her own diagnosis.
A man decides how she is allowed to perceive
and speak about the world around her.
Next time you're alone, look quickly at the wallpaper.
Look for the patterns and lines and faces on the wall.
Look, if you can, for her, visible only
out of the corner of your eye...
~
