Today another sentience mounts her head
and wraps it like a hat – introducing lulling
thoughts which seep expansively into her skull
to render her, for once, at last, dispassionate: allow
a clear-eyed new increase of the idea she might,
some night, discover she quite likes this going-it-alone.
(Craving tenderness had gotten tedious.)
Although, with this accommodating creature,
her into realms in which she hardly can be said
to be remotely solely at the helm. She’s in a crowd.
Thoughts, like pets and problem children, can,
of course, get loud: wear out their stay – until,
that is, that final possibly delicious day the whole
shebang of them and you implodes – and falls away.
.
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