I am so sad. The urges waste me in their path. No lessons to return to. Shape me, motherless. Shape the welts out of this vast form. shape the red and the ugly tigers from my willowing base. I cannot capture a smile in myself. I am a woman, under the boughs, bitter as walnut and thorn. You take you take you take. The collars of your shirts know better than my hems, swollen with me, my red thigh blues. The sorest swallows drink from this bath. The stone bath for the birds, fell on me. The stones they crossed my body. the stones they felt my weight, give. give give. Pour. The sun will not miss me. Pour me out. the roots will know me better. the roots will know me by my thirst. The roots will know me by the stiff chords of my heart.