|
By wistful Date: 2002 Feb 01 Comment on this Work [[2002.02.01.01.18.5665]] |
|
No princess needing saving, I No waif-like small lost soul. Finding pride in idiosyncrasies For which, in youth's mumbling haze, (with faltering gaze) I had apologized. Now I laugh loud and lustily at those same crude jokes Where once I would have muffled grins For not being more offended than amused. Now I strut and stride Where once I minced and stumbled. Now I hold my head up high Where once I stooped and crumbled. And as for men, I make their measure Far more quickly than they make mine. I've lost all patience for where my reality does not meet their ideals Of weight or proportion or physical activity. And many who, before my prime, Would have been labeled "possibilities" Are quickly put into their more appropriate place Before causing unneeded casualties. And so I dallied and I played Content with a casual kind of fun Thinking it not bad a life When all was said and done. When, unexpected and unrequested You appear and change my view Perfect match in calm and passion Heightening reality in such grand fashion Morality and humor, sensuality and value All the jigsaw comes together As if you have always been My friend, my heart, my lover. As I hope you ever will be. My love. My own. |