To a New Friend

To the query, “What is a friend?’’ his response was, ''A single soul dwelling in two bodies.'' --Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher. I play it safe; I run and hide to let her never come inside. My feeling of regret is strong: it hurts to think, What if I’m wrong? To be someone’s marbled statue (lauded from afar by one new) veils me, yet protects her ideal which is greater than what is real. To stay spotless in her mind’s eye an untruth, a single, white lie was told--that I fell. But, forsooth, to not trust once more was the truth! That truth--the fear of being laid bare once more (to a dewy maid)-- disquiets me: for I’m in dread to let her in--to trust instead.