Perhaps a mistake
to forgo the ache
making of one’s self a human
With spiteful tenacity
takes herself as lover
A joyful bed
in loving herself, loves the world
Gobbling down gleams of inspiration
indulging strange urges and combinations
to satiate the little one
secretly nursing, growing embarrassing
From a patchwork of snacking and digesting
miraculously combining
into a self–contained story
its own life
Flesh and blood for others to see
critique, abjure recklessly
Perhaps to glimpse fragility
imbibe what magnificence might come
if they too put out
be awestruck and taken–in