Nocturne Op55 No 1. 

I sense fingers in the dark
     my hands their own machinery
      I sense you’d have me
                  coquettishly
      describe my own topography
      My linguistics &
                       my monopoly

     Do I do battle in armor
                or a body conscious dress?
   Do I show fashionably late at the door
              when I was never a guest?

  I sense fingers in the dark
       crossed for my collapse
                            but
              they are not mine

   They are not mine
            

–LM

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