Not because she wanted him to let her go.
She wanted to stay on her bed. Not because she
wanted him to remove his arms from around her.
She wanted them to remain. Not because she
wanted him to go away. She wanted him to be there.
But because she wanted him to let her go, just not
to go out the door, not to go away somewhere,
not to travel to some far off land. Just to let
her go, so she said, Let me go. And he let her go.
But he stayed. And he held her until she left.
He set her head down and adjusted her hair,
straightened out her legs, covered her body
because she would not want people to see her.
And he told me two years later how he let her go.
He asked me, Was it okay for me to let her go?
And I said, Oh yes, it was okay for you to let her go.
He wanted to be sure, so he asked me again,
Are you sure? Because I want to let you know
that I let her go. And I said again, Oh it’s okay.
Oh yes, it’s okay. It’s okay. Really. It’s okay. It’s okay.