He told me
go write,
but I
tried left,
‘postured
traveling asea,
but I went awry,
‘posited
trusting
inner direction,
still I chose rail,
‘posed
soaring above
(it all)
but contentious I,
I misplaced my route in murk
considering myself
A Queen
–and no Queen B
and yet when a
high road led me to contentment,
I found tack.
Foregoing circuitous path halfway
–sealing circle.