He was unprepared for what I did.
Though deeply in love with him, I shut the door.
He thought my love was the occasion to kid,
And so I made sure we wouldn’t speak anymore.
His rank dragged him into more affection,
And he scorned me when rank was there.
His rank, not my love, gave him direction,
And I understood the nature of his care.
I heard what I needed to hear, and saw what I needed to see.
This was not politics of girl and boy,
But justice, and how the life will be.
I was the poet; mine, the height and pith.
Without respect, love is a toy,
And the soul will not be toyed with.
