With every work that I create
I enter in another world --
It's not the world that we call "real"
But it is real, yes it is real.
It wishes to be born into
The world, the unreal realized --
And I'm the mother of the child
That's brought into the real. Forgive
Me if I lash out in my birth
Pangs. Life is hard to bring to life.
I labor hard all day and night
With every work that comes to me.
My life would be much easier
If new realities were not
Attempting to emerge through me.