if I could take it back, I'd take it, undo it, and replace it with the things I meant to give

I didn't mean to say so much to you. 

I should have thought to let the evening end 

by looking at the stars subdued 

 

into their antique blue and alabaster hues. 

Such looking would have fit with my intent. 

I didn't mean to speak that way to you. 

 

If I could take it back, I'd take it, undo 

it, and replace it with the things I meant 

to give—not what I let slip (it's true) 

 

like any pristine star of ornamental hue. 

I do not always do what I intend. 

I didn't mean to say so much to you. 

 

It slipped before I saw, before I knew. 

Or do we always do what we intend? 

Perhaps it's true and all along I knew 

 

what I was saying--but how I wanted you. 

I should have thought to let the evening end. 

The placid stars seemed filled and then subdued 

by what I did and did not want to do. 

 

[Mary Szybist {1970- } 'Apology', from Granted]