Mourning something I never had, a reality I never experienced. I've left you so far behind, I cannot remember the ways in which you hemmed me in or caged me, though I am sure that you did. Was the cage transparent enough? Am I seeing a falconer who uses the hood effectively? I would rather not see all the things I cannot be. I will be what you want: an oversexed housewife: I will do your dishes and listen to your opinions and be ravenous in bed later: I will worship at your feet for the right to be blind. Mourning something I never had: there was always a void in our bed. Pull me back, now. Help me remember all the ways I failed myself.