She sits in a corner to be alone, to be at peace
while the sunlight that’s filtering in, throws wicked
shadows in a room like the bare branches of winter.

In the silence, restless dust travels aimlessly.
They are not quite sure of their destination.

They choose a clearing and take advantage while
They invade her mind, taking her places she doesn’t
want to go.

She asks them to stop, and tries to shake them off.
They scatter and plan another strategy. Perhaps
layers or balls this time.

They badger and monitor her every move, waiting
For just the right moment to engulf her in a suffocating
choke-hold until she succumbs.

It turned out that it was the company of these pesky
little things that she craved, not solitude. She loved
the challenge of not being rid of them.

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