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I am alive?I guess?
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory?
And at my finger's end?

The Carmine?tingles warm?
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth?it blurs it?
Physician's?proof of Breath?

I am alive?because
I am not in a Room?
The Parlor?Commonly?it is?
So Visitors may come?

And lean?and view it sidewise?
And add "How cold?it grew"?
And "Was it conscious?when it stepped
In Immortality?"

I am alive?because
I do not own a House?
Entitled to myself?precise?
And fitting no one else?

And marked my Girlhood's name?
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine?and not