An author thinks she knows more than
she does. She knows even less.
For example, someone else wrote this.
Thoughts approach in the shower;
she watches them haunt her swirling tides.
That's the cliché declarative.
She thinks,
Whenever I exist, people name me at the gate;
I trip over my own grass velvet heart
and I am the only person left on this flight.
In the distance, I see no one who can take
off and no perfect landing.
Alas, her red robin eyes to and fro
twitch lightly in their sockets.