isn't dead.
Chivalry is very much alive:
fogging every intention, confusing every direction.
I wasn't raised for gentlemen like these--
holding doors,
sliding chairs,
paying and considering and nicing.
Whether purposely thoughtful or a habitual reflex,
They can't help it--
Every gentlemen needs a lady.
I'm then left only to the devices of being a girl
raised somewhere not down here.
Where they're busy raising Women,
not Ladies.
Unrefined and improper, yes.
But a difference in priority does not make either
a lesser brand.
Surrounded by men that were all but gentle,
I turned out unintentionally independent
(too much for my own good).
I will misread every automated gesture as
a conscious effort towards my affection
only to be left to clean up the remnants of a
Like.
Unmutual.
Friendly.
Silly.
Silly, silly me.
To think such pleasant acts come from interest,
not tradition.