“You have to be careful with your choosing. You can’t just keep passing up these good boys or eventually there won’t be any good boys around anymore.”
This was the warning to heed, when i broke up with the first boyfriend my family deeply approved of.. and it was repeated again when i left the second.
This cautionary mantra is made of the stuff that keeps me up at night,
tunneling holes in deep dark places,
& backtracking into well-worn spaces.
my mind creates a never-ending flow chart
which is ironic because of how many times i hit dead end answers.
Where do the good boys go?
Are they swept up by girls with plans,
& careers, that are just missing that one piece — there. a good boy. now it all fits.
& so what, if im fickle to a fault
& need more patience than most
is that to say i’ll be left with slim-pickings, or none at all?
If time works its inevitable magic
& i wrinkle, & age, & trade in my youth..
wouldn’t the boys i find then,
be more apt to deal with me?
less captivated by young finesse
& the body of a girl not ready to settle?
more dead ends.
i may be too optimistic,
but i’d like to believe that yes, the good will pass–
but will be replaced by something even better.
