"her voice is borne out through far-lying ways"

Guido Cavalcanti (1250-1300)

Sonetto XXXV

~

    busy, and thoughts a-jumble

haven't run for days

    the hills are beginning to steepen

    she opens the door, inviting me in

yellowish light on cream walls

    warmth on a chilly evening, how can i not

    we talk about life as we know it

imagining the rest

    she asks if i'll stay, she needn't ask

~

    now it is late, and it is time to be quiet

to think of being careful

    with each other, with ourselves

    to be kind, to be cautious without holding back

in this way we won't hurt each other

    or ourselves, and in this way two become one

    not in a mad rush

    but deliberately

~

    i am not a simple person to know

    she sees me as i am, in all my complexity

    still she invites me in

    how can i not