none.

Directing the needle of my hopes towards a true north star,
The dart in my pinned flesh,
Supporting anticipated danger
In living as we do.
A dagger hinges on reality and displaces truth
And a sword shall pierce her heart..
I cyah recruit anymore salt-water to fall from meh sky
The storehouse empty and de whole dam dry,
The whole damn thing she lie about..
South is to sink and suppress and drown
My own fears of somebody to love
A non-requirement?
Anon requirement?
Unrequited?
A nun being quieted in the fading of a call she once expected to be the only voice…