A mole on her ear, her choice.
I didn't like clip-ons that hurt.
Most did. I had no need for earrings.
Early marriage, something he said,
I thought to be expressing a wish
I'd get pierced ears. I did.
Shortly after something he said
expressed disgust at the pagan practice,
ridicule for my pretentious mien.
Forty years later the unused holes
long-ago blocked, I meet his wishes
whatever they are. In many ways
I've grown past the need to please,
to submit to his whims. This one, no.
It doesn't matter. What matters
is that I know it was my right to decide
and still is.
No comments:
Post a Comment