And I Laugh Along
The older man with the aging ego winks at me and I laugh along with him.
And though my smile does fool him, I am more than the sweet symbol of remembered youth and pleasure he envisions.
For within me and my youthful frame clangs Eve’s hymn of experience.
Within me, I hear the sounds of widows’ hearts breaking.
Within me, I hear a chorus of countless mothers’ sighs that drowns out all of the intense borning cries.
Within me, I hear what I am yet to know.
And I softly smile, already realizing that being a woman in this life often means being misunderstood.