
Bridesmaid
A smile or kiss is all you have to spare;
Never a bed, a key, an inch of floor.
All that I am, all that I have, I share,
Yet I possess not half as much but more —
Double, I swear,
Though you remain unsure —
Twice what I owned or hoped to own before.
There is no metal weighing down your hand.
You are not subject to the whims of kings
And claim that you will never understand
The pleasure or the point of two gold rings.
For you no grand
Passion waits in the wings
Just your own space. A woman needs such things.
Not me, I say. Of all the things to need,
I choose another mind, another face,
Someone of whom, if I were ever freed
I would be tattered remnants or a trace.
What awkward breed
Would crave, would even chase
What age and death will bring in any case?
Sophie Hannah, First of the Last Chances

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