My
mind is bound
by a three word cliché,
ever decreasing in meaning.
My
tongue has found
its favourite knot,
crept out of my control,
jerked tight in my throat
- a lump, one might observe.
You
see,
I know that
said to me
these words might choke me also,
and probably evoke so
intense a fright and fear and quite
a different response to the desired delight.
White-faced
I'd hide
or run,
and chide my perception of you
and call myself fool
to trust, to believe, to lust, to speak
to you - who I'd leave in under a week.
This
is why
my mind is bound to the proverbial bush
I'm beating around.
I would not wish you to react
with feelings like those I've described
on hearing those words - no matter how true,
and so I refrain from saying them to you.
I
have no qualms about the pronouns,
the word they embrace is the problem, I've found.
Connotations
accruing from years
of practice, malpractice and media careers
devalue emotion, do meaning no good
so I fear it might mean less
to you than it should.
But,
if I trust other phrases to say
the same thing, in metaphorical ways
no matter how well the images flow
there would still be room for doubt to grow.
So
despite my inadequate explanation
and although I approach this with some trepidation,
I must express now
my feelings, to be
conclusive while you
are still listening
to me...
Please
believe it's just emotion,
no T.V. substitute, no fake potion.
It's the reason that I choose
to be predictable
rather than lose you.
For
all these reasons,
believe it is true, and
forgive me for saying it -
I
love you.
