My sister Emily
We have heard
We have heard, Dickinson
...
In morning, summer day
I
Selfish, egoist, narcissist
Like to sense own smell
Rain on dust
...
Raindrops hit the shield
Round flats
Death of one brings life
Water runs
...
Yes of course
There are times I wish I
I could be one of you
...
Cut my tongue
I sat there and conferred
With an ant as friend
...
I am not Orwell
No, no, no, I don't write:
'Why I write? '
...