Because I trust you so much
I will risk to admit to you—
Even after my big pushback
To your suggestion from yesterday—
The possibility that deep down in my heart—
Beneath those often-traveled levels
Where the words play out
And the feelings are felt
And the plans are made—
Down at that most distant part
Where the very will of me resides—
I am refusing to love
What you have said I should love—
And what I very well could have
Loved by now—
That I am in fact stubbornly
Refusing to embrace it
And to hold its hand
And look it in the eye
With a soft heart—
In the way that bonds people
Into the best of friends.
You know already of course
That until now I have puzzled
At why I could not get close to it.
And while the cause may yet prove to
Surprise us both by being
Something else entirely,
It seemed right on this new day
To soften my heart and admit to you
That I do not know for sure
That it is not my own will—
My own self—
That is standing in the way.
And so I wanted to assure you
That I shall have a talk with my will.
I will draw it out and listen to what it says
And watch its gestures carefully
As if to find it out in spite of its intentions
If need be.
And we shall see what he has to say for himself.
And while I can’t yet say for sure
I will admit to you my hunch—
And my true hope, even—
That he will soon be writing you
A heart-felt apology letter
For refusing to love
What you had so kindly and wisely
Suggested would be so good for him.
