Pretend to be an isosceles, two angles waving like sea kelp undone.

Sinuous and delicate they wave and threaten, but cannot choke.

Listen to Freud's sonorous voice—you are trickster friends.

Wait. You can hear Freud breathe in time with your father, lover, gate-keeper

Ear to door wait for them to stop, the wait of Electra, of the ex-wife,

of the angry scream curve-balling towards you, a beaut, a true throw.