used to feel my marriage was a prison
holding me from all the fish in the sea
yet the more I listen to single people
the more my hope for new love fades
cause they only swipe right if the fit hits
or on the life of the party with cool friends
or his grid matches her grid cause love
life is lived out online and public now.
What I have to offer doesn't fade as fast-write sweet letters like clockwork, that can
be held by old, frail hands decades from now.
I can cook. I can clean. I can can veggies
grown on my land. Smile at every child I see.
I have assets, the kind I have to list for taxes.
Bask in the summer sun with library book.
Answer each call, each text, so fast, like you
are tugging a shoelace tied to my big toe.
Bake biscuits from scratch, cake, cookies too,
that's how I do, give from the bottom up
so it's all me and all my sweat and effort.
Grow flowers every color from seed to vase
arrange them just to see a smile on a face.
I'm not hot, or stylish, or cool, or anything
What I have to offer doesn't fade so fast
used to feel my marriage was a prison
holding me from all the fish in the sea
but it is a precious safety net saving me
from cruel catch and release games.
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