Confusedly shunned have been your intentions
For we are so different I see now: it’s true.
You reach out to me so I might be free; you reach out
To me so one day I may just be.
And when I say “just be”, p’raps I mean “be just”:
Or p’raps I even mean both.
And I realise in your intentions, the intentions
There is good and sensitivity in equal parts.
And whilst I have kicked and railed against your
Procedure, and whilst your task and process
Have bemused, the loose ends I begin to
Tie up remind me, now,
Far more of the future than they ever will
Of the past.