you are young now,
but wait a while.

this too shall pass,
and sadly, it will end.

for now,
you carry around your whims
like torches.

and possess the sort
of innocence i envy
and pity.

soon,
it will be altered.

you will start questioning things,
morality and preconditions.

the fancy-free formlessness
of executed situations and
conversations over dinner
will become the consequences,
the heretofore.

suddenly,
you will look differently
at your lovers.

instead of mindless moments
holding hands in the quiet of theatre fuzz,
you will enquire as to their present moods,
the plans to make, the dates to set.

and somehow,
puppy love will lose its luster
and going steady
will be the job you keep.

one month anniversaries
won't matter, they will be only
markers in the year that you were faithful,
hopefully.

i cannot say that i am jealous,
though your eyes deceive
as though they will always be so hopeful,
and i will know you just like this
as you clumsily puff a cigarette,
and hold yourself awkward
quoting bartlett's like biblical verse.

this, i remember.
being just smart enough
to pass for precocious,
always rushing it,
wanting more
as the days passed like years
and adolescence became teens
and teens became twenties.

but you are still so whole,
about to embark on
a world of tragedy.
don't provoke it,
it will get done for you.

and i, still dancing
on the inbetweens of my
youth and my mortality
must watch you struggle
towards the signs you cannot help
but take,
but in 'choose your own adventure'
you can cheat,
and here you can't go back.

so go slow, kid.
soon enough
you'll be hitting the brakes.

03/25/2007

Posted on 03/25/2007
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer