#Americans #Women
The first time I died, I walked m… I followed the file of limping day… I held me tall, with my head flung… But I dared not look on the new m… I dared not look on the sweet youn…
I’m wearied of wearying love, my f… Of worry and strain and doubt; Before we begin, let us view the e… And maybe I’ll do without. There’s never the pang that was wo…
Oh, is it, then, Utopian To hope that I may meet a man Who’ll not relate, in accents suav… The tales of girls he used to have…
I shall come back without fanfaron… Of wailing wind and graveyard pano… But, trembling, slip from cool Et… A mild and most bewildered little… I shall not make sepulchral midnig…
With you, my heart is quiet here, And all my thoughts are cool as ra… I sit and let the shifting year Go by before the windowpane, And reach my hand to yours, my dea…
Tonight my love is sleeping cold Where none may see and none shall… The daisies quicken in the mold, And richer fares the meadow grass. The warding cypress pleads the ski…
They hurried here, as soon as you… Their faces damp with haste and sy… And pressed my hand in theirs, and… And clicked their tongues, and wat… Gently they told me of that Other…
Now it’s over, and now it’s done; Why does everything look the same? Just as bright, the unheeding sun,… Can’t it see that the parting came… People hurry and work and swear,
The ladies men admire, I’ve heard… Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light; They’d rather stay at home at nigh… They do not keep awake till three,
Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there,
Ghosts of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow, Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow. Turn aside your eyes and ears,
When I admit neglect of Gissing, They say I don’t know what I’m mi… Until their arguments are subtler, I think I’ll stick to Samuel But…
I’m sick of embarking in dories Upon an emotional sea. I’m wearied of playing Dolores (A role never written for me). I’ll never again like a cub lick
Then let them point my every tear, And let them mock and moan; Another week, another year, And I’ll be with my own Who slumber now by night and day
Only name the day, and we’ll fly a… In the face of old traditions, To a sheltered spot, by the world… Where we’ll park our inhibitions. Come and gaze in eyes where the lo…
