Tuesday, May 8, 2012


Here, at twenty-four
I sit, thicker than before
Older than i ever dreamed --
I am 17 no more --
I am not 17

If i were in Jane Austen, i
Would sit upon the shelf --
A Charlotte settling
But i -- i am, my self:

Too old to be a princess
Can't wait for any knight
I find i must content myself
To live my life --

To love an admirable man
To be a daily wife
To put off scrubbing toilets,
To cook dinners daily, and
To live a daily life

To crucify desires
(I wanted breathless beauty)
To learn the sweetness of small things -- of
Diligence, and duty --

To ripen daily into flesh
Softer and more heavy --
To learn to live in roundness
Around a husband's body --

When i was 17 i longed
To live brief, sharp and bright;
I'm 24. Those dreams are gone.
I want
To live in peace, to
Love your light --

And all that i once wanted
All the dreams i've lost --
For all i have been granted,
I cannot count the cost.
I have received
Too much.

O i am blessed
I do believe --
I am not 17 now,
I am not 17.

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