Child's Play

To be mesmerized by the gaze of a man,

to day dream about a first kiss is child’s play.

To pick out color schemes, dresses, cakes, and

flowers for a wedding long before the engagement,

hold hands and steal kisses in a dark theater,

 profess love after a month or two,  receive

teddy bears, chocolates in a heart shaped box,

 long stem roses. Open doors, pulled out chairs,

chivalry for the sake of love, a bogus fantasy

carved into the minds of little girls by Disney

princes. Joanie and Chachi sittin’ in a tree

k-i-s-s-i-n-g. Pillows tucked under shirts, baby

 dolls in plastic cribs. Girl names: Mary, Maggie,

Marley. Boy names: Matthew, Michael, Martin.

One big, happy family, together forever. White

picket fences, a golden retriever, two-door garage,

 a two-story home in the cul-de-sac of modern-day suburbia.

 Grow up, there is only your cramped apartment, your

 three roommates and their on-again-off-again relationships.

 No boyfriend, no fiancé, no husband, no prince charming.

You aren’t Cinderella, beautiful, enchanting, princess bride.

You’re an ugly step-sister, a hopeless maid chasing after dreams,

fairytales, child’s play.