I was the lonely one in whom   
they swarmed in the millions.   
I was their creature and I   
was grateful. I could sleep   
when I wanted.   

I lived a divided   
existence in sleepdreams   
that lit up a silence as dreadful   
as that of the moon. I have   
an overly-precise recall of   

those solitary years before   
I opened the curtain and drew   
upon a universe of want that made   
me so strong I could crack   
spines of books with one hand.

More Poems by Kathryn Starbuck