Guinevere is a woman in progress; 

her life is great, her eyes are budding like cosmos 

Her blue jeans swell with love and Arthur's pride 


She has doubts about her Elaine, and her Lancelot, and her future husband,

and the student government election that never stops for a helping hand 


Lancelot took her weak hand and let go, then he fist-fights with Arthur under the streetlights, 

the lights that guide Guinevere back to her dorm before the fight ends 


Into Elaine's arms she falls 

And into the night she hears a buzz, 

then a light, 

then a ring; 


she unlocks her phone to see a cry 

of #RIPGuinevere of the screen she's lived in her entire life


"King Arthur and Sir Lancelot stop their duel, for a better tomorrow 

without the slut that ruined their lives—"


And Guinevere embraces the label and Elaine with kindness 

and turns off her phone. 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country


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