Lisa Ray Instagram – They say the rules are: be forgotten, or proclaim myself. I’m reasonably tired of that game, myself. I watched some friends rush off, called by the wild, and stayed home to make coffee for the tame myself. Did sex ever seem like work to you? Sometimes, five minutes after I came myself. There are actions I was pressured or seduced to, but for omissions, I can only blame myself. Do I think that my averted glance nullifies suffering? First of all, I maim myself. Although I’m manifestly ‘not my type’ the one in my bed this morning was, all the same, myself. Not Elektra, Clytemnestra, nor Iphigenia, I’ll remain an unsung keeper of the flame myself. Burnished oak surrounds a rectangle of glass at the top of the stairs, in which I frame myself. A signature hangs, unwritten, below the last line on the page, where I’m obliged to name myself. . . ‘Myself’ by Marilyn Hacker