She’s tired of playing army.
Scared of non-knowledge.
Tired of vision, tired of degrees
of evolution, of separation
of her soul’s face.

She wants her night back,
wants her fragility of interior,
her ability to fugue, and fall.

She’s tired of elated emotions.
tired of her voice, tired of her mind
and its fluctuations and
vacillations between
light and dark.

She wants anonymity’s cloak back,
wants her transformation
to throw her worth into a black hole

never to come back -- perfidiously.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 9/3/04