waves

Some days, a sophisticated
Stranger
Sneers at me in the mirror,
"Pathetic girl.

Romance is
Dead,
You killed it,
And there is no CPR now
That will bring you
Safe strong arms and
Flowers at work.

You leapt from that boat,
Drawn by the swell and call
Of the dangerous ocean,
So surf,
Or swim,
And stop complaining.

Or crawl to land and give up."