"Small Things," "Small things get smaller.
The life lived is for choosy choosers.
This won't get used, so I can reveal secrets here.
Once I imagined me a girl.
I did me up in brambles and berries
and stalked a rooftop, colluding with voices pointed outward.
I relished the stomping sound of rain,
and being a slanting body on a rolling day.
I chose time for my thoughts to wander in.
I shucked music, shucked prayers, shucked being elusive,
gave myself wholly to my new gown woven of cakes and trains.
I felt good in my gown, walked without stumbling,
awed myself silly.
The rain was good to feel on my hands, on my rippled skin.
I looked up the hill and saw the outline of the steps
I would take.
I took them.
I felt I could fit into any bottle, any shell.
Even sand was known to me.
It was a dream or something.
I thought I was rusting, and that was all right.
Someone was sighing out of my mouth,
using my voice to get away."