were firmer
and smoother,
and more than a little
ungainly,
we didn't think
of ourselves as lovely.
We thought that so much
malicious under-
ripeness
was a burden
to be spurned,
and we longed
to be invested
with maturity's soft sweetness.
But now, looking back
with greater poise,
we realize
that the bruises
of maturity have come
with a cost:
we first broadcast
our weakness, our desire
to be consumed,
the instant we found
we were finished
being green.
