and the wayward world continues to amuse her.
with its inconsistent engagement with her mind.
few, leave way for cosmic rays,
to penetrate into their abodes.
few, hesitate to or almost totally reject any intrusion;
that might deconstruct their construed reality.
few, too nervous for any exchange
few, too paranoid to allow any change to take over.
few, embrace her, almost choking her breath.
few, banish her,
expel her out with exasperation,
leaving her gasping.
she has learnt too from the coexistence.
she too is now very gaurded,
locked and protected in her ribcage,
in her solitude,
surrendering to words, phrases;
and warm liquids,
to keep her away from intersecting with;
her unwilling neighbours.