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Adrienne Rich - Twenty-One Love Poems XVII
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	XVII
	
No one’s fated or doomed to love anyone.
	The accidents happen, we’re not heroines,
	they happen in our lives like car crashes,
	books that change us, neighborhoods
	we move into and come to love.
Tristan und Isolde is scarcely the story,
	women at least should know the difference
	between love and death. No poison cup,
	no penance. Merely a notion that the tape-recorder
	should have caught some ghost of us: that tape-recorder
	not merely played but should have listened to us,
	and could instruct those after us:
	this we were, this is how we tried to love,
	and these are the forces they had ranged against us,
	and theses are the forces we had ranged within us,
	within us and against us, against us and within us.
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
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