one time i was sitting and thinking
he was talking and talking
and i was not listening
and my eyes fixed in one place
as my head ran away.

i was in a different world
i was a child in my bedroom
i was a mother with keepsakes in hand
i was so far away i didn't know where i was.
i liked that place best.

my pulse was deep and steady,
my breathing like that of a weekend sleep,
i was sitting in a chilly stone classroom,
but i was not there.
i was a queen, noble, and warm,
ruling with a mighty hand
merciful and just
frightful and beautiful.

and then i was a lady smiling at children
with dark skin and oversized bellies
hugging them so tight
dirt on my white knees,
with a love so beyond myself.
one time, when i was sitting and thinking,
i was there.