A poetess is not as selfish<br />as you assume.<br />After months of agonising <br />over her marriage of words—the bride—<br />and spaces—the groom,<br />she knows that as soon<br />as she has penned the poem,<br />it’s yours to consume.<br />So, without giving it a think,<br />she blows on the ink<br />and the letters fly away<br />like dandelions on a windy day,<br />landing on hands and lips, <br />on hearts and hips.<br />But more often than not,<br />you can easily spot<br />them trodden and forgotten,<br />becoming sodden and rotten.<br />Yet, she will continue to make<br />what’s others to take<br />because selfishness <br />is not the mark of a poetess.