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Sometimes I get asked if
I’ve always known I would
or wanted to
leave it all behind
for love,
this love,
or some love, and
whether I think it was worth
being in a place where
I have to start again
from the beginning
with nothing but my name
and my history
and my favored virtues

and I guess I have
believed with all my being
that my soul and what
I have to give
are worth something
and at some point, life
would ask from me a gamble
whose stakes were
proportional to the caliber
of my character
and somewhere
there’d be a moment when
it is all that mattered

and there has always been
the wish to measure up
to that kind of transaction
with destiny,
not to get out
of where I used to be
no, escape is for cowards,
not to possess or be possessed
who I am is bigger than that,
but to have love, real love,
love as it was meant to be had,
with strength and purity,
and to look that moment
in the eye and acknowledge
with all the honesty
my heart can stand up for,
that it is a difficult choice,
that nothing in this world
is guaranteed,
or reversible,
or without consequence,
and still tell that Guardian
who made of free will both
solid rock and question mark,
who is always listening,
who laid the pieces down
before I ever read the words
before anything had meaning
then asked me to choose,
…..I take what’s mine
……….and I own it,
and whatever follows
will all be but
the next ocean-deep dawn,
the next uncharted road.

“Elizabeth Arden Untold” by photographers Agence Tuxedo


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