She skipped from stone to stone across the stream,
each stepping stone subsiding with her stride.
No tears for trampled islands,
she was on the other side.

In comfort, and in loneliness, she mused
she’d never feel or be felt from outside.
Her brain a private island
she lived and thrived inside.

The world and she were sisters, though not fused,
new sustenance delivered on each tide.
She lived upon an island,
Necessities supplied.

Her needs well met, she soon began to dream
of wants her bounded home could not provide.
She took them from the island,
and then the island died.

Assured the world would match her self-esteem,
She headed out across the sea’s divide
She found another island,
and there she multiplied.

And one by one each island’s stocks were used,
they one by one became desertified.
The world was but an island,
and then the island died.

The death and desolation soon suffused
the living brain she looked out from inside.
She never left the island,
and then the island died.

She’d skipped from stone to stone across this dream,
each stepping stone subsiding in her stride.
No tears for trampled islands,
she was on the other side.

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