Poem by Dan Stone
Let’s not see more
than meets the eye.
At least for now,
assume you can believe
what is; no need
to read between
these lines.
No complications,
no mysteries
to disentangle.
No beneath the surface
machinations calling
for your expertise,
your practiced
hands or peering scope.
There’s nothing else
you need to know
than this simplicity,
no deeper vein to mine,
no hidden gold
or rough edged diamond
here to find,
to dig up, polish
like a reputation.
All I’m offering
is in my arms,
fragile, fresh,
magnificent
but only for a while.
I won’t object
if you resist, project,
because you are that free.
But if you press, insist,
I’ll just say “Nope,
expect no more
than this.”
The truth is only me.
Let’s not see more
than meets the eye.
At least for now,
assume you can believe
what is; no need
to read between
these lines.
No complications,
no mysteries
to disentangle.
No beneath the surface
machinations calling
for your expertise,
your practiced
hands or peering scope.
There’s nothing else
you need to know
than this simplicity,
no deeper vein to mine,
no hidden gold
or rough edged diamond
here to find,
to dig up, polish
like a reputation.
All I’m offering
is in my arms,
fragile, fresh,
magnificent
but only for a while.
I won’t object
if you resist, project,
because you are that free.
But if you press, insist,
I’ll just say “Nope,
expect no more
than this.”
The truth is only me.