Let us disabuse ourselves scientific-
ally of all not-
ions of madly romantic love:
they involve being
swept along a tidal way of need,
and I do not want you to need me
for that is no freedom.
Such need imposes its will;
it ain’t you who’s doing the choosing.
Far better a love where the partners do
want each other: where that tidal
wave still exists but is hidden from
view and does not drive the choice;
where the liberty of choice
tells me you truly do value me in all that
I am: not because you see me madly
but precisely because you see me well.
I am at one with my past, just about
sorted: that past slowly is becoming that
other passed, and so I can now become able
to move onto another plane of my life
where sheets uncrumpled may one day be
no so, as lives do turn full circle.