pressing
her eyes turn east, wan and empty
pressing her fingers against the clock
begotten sorrow, curious pride
all again for the woman in black
harmlessly hoping she thinks
a perverse sense of being
dream state that mocks her mind
letting him fall away again
she wanted to be the woman in black
pressing her mind into the hole
traversing an unknown ravine
turning her thoughts to the sky
her ordinary mind confirms
thoughts drowning in suffocation
looking to set herself free
looking for someone to lead
someone who understands the time
and knows the woman in black
feels that she can press herself
into a hole smaller than a pinprick
without even trying to be free.
11/2/98.