Arranged circles,
shaking with embarrassment
having to undress
not saying it
not lifting a finger
the woman was given
a generous-hearted person
as a sound of a complaint
to drown her tears
to cook foods
to have awful nightmares
to panic or hope
to establish trouble.
The woman was so certain
she didn’t feel the need to ask
of the smell she was used to:
smoke from herself.
“When I wake,” she said,
I’ll smile.
She closed her eyes,
and never opened them again.