Tuesday, January 04, 2005

What I Can't Say

Back when I was afraid it was not true, I could say that love, love was everything. The world, mind and flesh and mud, was made of love. Now that I'm certain of it, I can't say it.

I have always been, I recognize now, far more frightened that it might be true than that it might not.

You -- yes, you; don't look over your shoulder -- I need to ask your forgiveness. I have never done anything really bad in my life, except to doubt the love between us.

I have pretended we were strangers. Forgive me for that.

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