I loved reading Rachel Long's Portent over and over because I don't know what to make of it. Certainly, I can't get into the poet's mind as she wrote this - it a mystery box with a key code the reader has to guess one turn at a time to arrive at her meaning. But there is something visible here that does not need a hard unlocking process. There are words that convey meaning to the reader and it's theirs to shape as they will.
There is indeed something to be said for love stymying social mobility. The two goals are almost orthogonal. There has always been the concept of either marrying for love or for money. The two almost never coincide. If and when they do, the magic bubble bursts and only one of the two remains.
The couple falls on hard times and recover from it drawing from their reservoir of love. The tide of fortune might turn but the glory days of the past might never return. Love may fade as the the couple redoubles their focus on material advancement because that takes all their available energy. Anyone whose ever been in love can relate to the line I feel middle class when I'm in love. And for each person the reason could be different and based on who they are their version of "middle class" will be unique.
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