me as being me...
without a picture.

And here i stand
still wanting-
longing to be me
bitter in
enviable
eccentricity
electricity
of a new dimension
but the hold is still the same
the cold comes under
the same name
shallow and preserved
well-mannered
and reserved...

i stand before you in my straight
and narrow
imagining you see the curved
outline of my
being.

the real me.

this was written in 1999
as i realized i was mother to two children
and stuck in business casual clothes
and felt middle aged and responible.
i felt more matriarch than cool.