To Mesho (returning from Kalimati Jn. a.k.a. Tatanagar)

I don’t like how you lie there But your eyes search me out Looking for a familiar face Among a sea of servants. I like the way you talk Memories from the old earth Your youth, my father, the stories That scramble to be heard. I watch you as you try To lift those atrophied…

Unashamed.

I was ashamed. When they plucked at my hair and told me To sit on their lap I knew Something was not right. I was shamed. Was I too pretty, Was I too bright? I always thought “average”. Was the word That fit me right. But I was ashamed And I ran away. I did…