Never Underestimate The Meanness In People's Souls...

My Head Was A Magpie's Nest Lined With Such Bright Scraps Of Information.

I Would ... Go Up To The Mailbox And Sit In The Grass, Waiting. ... Till It Came To Me One Day There Were Women Doing This With Their Lives, All Over. There Were Women Just Waiting And Waiting By Mailboxes For One Letter Or Another. I Imagined Me Making This Journey Day After Day And Year After Year, And My Hair Starting To Go Gray, And I Thought, I Was Never Made To Go On Like That. ... If There Were Woman All Through Life Waiting, And Women Busy And Not Waiting, I Knew Which I Had To Be.

For We Did Makeup. But We Didn't Forgive Each Other. And We Didn't Take Steps. And It Got To Be Too Late And We Saw That Each Of Us Had Invested Too Much In Being In The Right And We Walked Away And It Was A Relief.

Sometimes Our Connection Is Frayed, It Is In Danger, It Seems Almost Lost. Views And Streets Deny Knowledge Of Us, The Air Grows Thin. Wouldn't We Rather Have A Destiny To Submit To, Than, Something That Claims Us, Anything, Instead Of Such Flimsy Choices, Arbitrary Days?

That's Something I Think Is Growing On Me As I Get Older: Happy Endings.