I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, young man

But I have been raised a certain way

Taught not to lie simply because it pleases me

Not to sit with my legs too wide apart lest I appear less ladylike

Not to look too proud in a room full of men with dust for brains

God forbid they be intimidated by the echoes of creation flowing from my eyes

See now, I don’t agree with everything they taught me

If it pleases me to sit with my legs parted,  my heart will not bleed for the wounded

If my stars and echoes are too loud and bright then perhaps it is you we ought to redesign

But I do try to be honest

And remember now

I take no pleasure in telling you

That the galaxies in me are screaming, shouting and crying

That you, young man

Are a celestial bore