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Quiet, quiet
In the suffocating dark--
Iron stillness,
Taste of blood
Biting my tongue.
My words are the sound
Of a tree falling
At midnight.
Nothingness, nothingness.
I am strung between two
Vacuums;
Containers of empty
Space.
Here, I know, my prayers
Are useless.
I am quieted by the
Roaring silence
And the expansive cage
Of my privacy.
Worthless, worthless.
Here, you\'d look upon me
As one looks at a child alone in the street
Afraid of its independence
And bravery.
Fearless, fearless.
Here I am a skipped sunrise;
The exception that proves the rule.
Tears of salt,
Blood of sand,
Skin of dry and papery hay.
Useless, useless.
------
She falls softly down from towering pedastools...
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