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.