Willing Prey

Given glass ceilings we're all ring-fenced drown in rank tall-growing reeds that'll sedge up all our sweet inlets While they widen their bitter, greedy outlets they bask like piranhas, ready to leap and feed they'll snap at anything that breathes. So we must hover like wispy blue dragonflies and drink in stillness the morning dew we must, on balance, be their willing prey tremble and fall like autumn leaves and yet resist combusting into living flames somehow we must soar, soar without wings. Bare on the emptiness, their stewardship-brings and live with barely enough money or hope. Given glass ceilings we're all ring-fenced we're all metaphorically milked it's an unwritten agreement they own us.