some say i was cursed
because of too much red i was a child
because of too much black an old nun
almost never a woman
dancing flamenco among life’s flounces

the greedy ones stole my dreams
night after night
when i began to forget them
they shared the prey without flinging
a bone for me at caesar’s feast

i righteously swore they were mine
when i woke up
in the sad buffoon’s corner
every day left by god on earth

it was not my job to baptize things
in my wordless thoughts
it was neat as in a convent cell
knowing only to listen or to keep silent
either a child
either an old nun

i walked in the versailles hall of mirrors
without telling for sure where the sun was