I am sorry that it is so hard
For me to leave you;
I fear that it is too easy
For you to leave me
And that I must linger
In your beauty like
A sunbather catching
The final strands of afternoon.

I am sorry that I struggle
To return your blink less gaze;
I fear that you will see
Beyond my azure eyes
Into the aquatic sadness
Of my imperfection and youth.

I am sorry that every time I see you
My body begs for contact
And my mind paralyzes itself
On the cost of impulse;
I know that you cannot be mine
And that you can:
I know that I cannot love you
And that I do.

I am sorry that I love you
With such youthful shyness;
Every time I set off
On my horse of love
I tremble at the gates of your reluctance;
You come down in order to hug me,
To greet the young man
That seeks you,
And then retreat.

I am sorry that I think of you
With such idealism;
I have never meant
To pedestalize you, yet
It seems you cannot be
Anything other than
A queen to me:
Pliant ruler of my sentiment
And my dreams!

I am sorry that we cannot
Walk arm in arm, or kiss
Beneath the pink, fleshy sunset;
I am sorry that I still hope to harvest
Your hands of grant:

I am sorry that I love you.

Monday, March 17th, 2003