My misjudgement’s been tragic but surely 

not irretrievable.

I thought I did see you 

as you really were: 

and yet the shell you have constructed so wonderful around you

is simply 

a part of what your 

you once was


And I thought you were as skilled 

in the arts of lovemaking 

as that beautiful exterior and that unplumbed interior 

clearly suggested to me,

at the time,

was the case.

But there I misjudged you: there I was so wrong: there I not

only did wrong you too long, but quite also I considered you harder, 

much harder,

than true love ever could ever must be.

And your waiting and seeing and striving and

struggling to venture inside of 

the cocoon I did make

only ennobles you more in the eyes that now see

with far greater accuracy the

person gorgeous and lushess, and kissably fine:

that steady and stead-


you show

of sheer goodness …

… which in front of 

me clear,

and bloody well rhymed,

I finally with clarity

see be.

One thought on “Misjudge{[un]me[a]nt}

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