We were hauled into the underworld.
I thought
we were not responsible
any more than we were responsible
for being alive.
I was a young girl,
rarely subject to censure:
then a pariah.
Did I change that much
from one day to the next?
If I didn't change, wasn't my action
in the character of that young girl?
Ask her what she remembers.
I noticed nothing. I noticed
I was trembling.
YOU ARE READING
TOUCH °
Poetry"No sadness is greater than in misery to rehearse memories of joy...." [180120]
