becoming at last

how long do I hold hope
in my hand
how long do I wait
for a man to land at my feet
and keep me all hands and
eyes and love

how long do I bear this silence
and the past until I let
them drop
and stop the waiting
and the holding to
get up, go, do

my own inclination my own
wishing for the first time -
let the hope, the fruitless
hope, go - embrace the right kind
of silence and elope with
my own bright dream of being

myself at last -
no other voice pejorative
to tell me  .D..E. this .D..E... is what you  .D..E. ought
D..E. to do and be.  I will not.  I will
Be - novel and novice - me.
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