Poem: Where the Pretty Ones Live – A Romance – 07/07/20

Where the pretty ones live
is where some want to be,
posed or slouched so elegantly,
chiffon dresses or satin clinging.
 
Where the pretty ones live
is where some want to 
spend some time,
gracefully sipping champagne,
for hours talking softly 
or romancing.
 
Where the pretty ones live
is where I found you,
strong yet awkward,
though slightly out of place,
 
but,
you were poised,
you were prepared,
you were honest and true,
 
and,
where the pretty ones exist
is where we forged our intent,
tenor and alto lines 
so rich and sweet,
I couldn’t conjure 
such a melody,
ours was of 
fantastical truth.

Where the strongest survive
is where we travelled to,
once floundering, 
we now clung to each another,
swept away from those beings,
left them afar,
 
and where the bravest reside,
we carried ourselves 
with great courage,
to rebuild bridges of our 
past insecurities
into palatable platforms 
which were warm,
serene, and inviting.
 
We didn’t need the 
presence of pretty ones
to make us feel complete,
we had each other,
and this was progress to be seen,
 
through many an endless ocean,
o’er many mountains,
upon winding paths and
cobblestone roads
we would traverse,
 
the pretty ones could
heave and breathe
their distaste and 
their bitterness,
upon neither of us
their jealous airs would be cast.
 
Because,
while pretty ones are
interesting in the moment,
we have advanced ourselves,
refashioned our near-empty selves 
into stoic
iron and mortar,

we are no longer 
impressionable,
weak,
overly tender,

through each other, 
we've found ourselves,
alone or together, 
we are stronger because of the other.
 
We no longer needed 
to listen to their gossip,
indulgent hissed and 
giggled tales between
champagne bubbles 
and sips of wine,

no,
no, my precious,
we have made ourselves truly whole, 
we have made ourselves divine.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.  
Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay

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