Just when I try to begin,
the page seems unfriendly.
I only wanted to say that
I miss how she was, and
what if she had had her mind
all these years. What life
would this have been for
all of us? What if I had
stayed inside the shell?
Fluttering free of the mud
now, there's hardly
anything to regret.
She has been well-cared for.
And so have I.
One day, we will rejoin
our sisterhood,
like stitches on a holder
waiting for the collar to begin,
with a knit-stitch that will
lie flat against the skin
instead of curling away.