I lovingly gaze back on that girl in bangs
with a twinge of sadness and note of pride
and wonder at whose idea it was to
smear heavy on her warm insides
the idea of personal responsibility for
every person's soul whipped with
the idea of holy passive smallness
landing her in a rush of driven apologetics
of both terrible varieties, all the while
terrified of moral relativism while its
masters built a cage of small certainty
around her.
Why pride, you ask?
Because eventually
she took
what she wanted
and left.
Wide Places 