In an email a couple weeks ago, Marie talked about how since September she has been tying herself in knots – because she wants to marry me, and that's not possible (at least today) and from this she generated a huge amount of anxiety. Some day I'll get around to posting her message and my reply. But meanwhile, here's a sonnet I wrote this afternoon on the same subject.
__________
You find yourself by Yes and No entrapped,
Like Abelard inspecting rival creeds,
Or maybe loves me, loves me not's more apt,
Tugging at daisy blooms like worry beads.
Shall we be wed? I did not answer Yes.
And if not Yes, why then it must be No.
And if it's No, the question's foolishness.
Are you a fool, to trade in folly so?
Or maybe Yes and No don't rule the heart.
Perhaps there's color out past black and white.
We might need dialectic less than art,
Or harsh fluorescents less than candlelight.
Hold close, my love, and let me stroke your hair,
While blocks of questions sublime into air.
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