She folds bills into paper airplanes
and sits on the porch swing,
sending them out to sky.
Maybe it'll get lost between Saturn's rings
or someone miles away will find it
and wonder who she is.
The water bill has "I cried red tears"
on it. She doesn't want to pay it --
costs too much.
She watches the moths push the lamp
above her head,
the children running down the street,
the pressure of their blood-red whispers
copyright Maya Ganesan, 2009