I breathed on my wine-filled glass
     Of my other lives
          So I could write in the fog.

Replied to all,
     Gave myself obscene permission,
          And, vicious laughter to shock unenlightened humans.

But if you glanced away, even for a second,
     Another would disappear: newly walking babies
          Music lovers, the novel in my head.

This summer, I talked loud and fast,
      As if something would happen if I did,
          To a smiling face.

I answer faces with mouths,
      Persevering faces, anguished faces,
          Hushed.