And you too Ms. Wheatley

Sylvia said we’d be ok,

            right before she died.

Anne choked, from her pen and mouth

            with a cigarette inside.

 

Emily never left her room,

            on notes upon her pages.

Bradstreet asked to own herself,

            and we’ve spoke of it for ages.

 

Is it too much to ask

            for more than a gasp,

            it will never be too soon.

There must be more

            than wife and w***e

            for we who've bled with the moon.