You’d think
it would be easy
to give you
up,
let you go,
consign you
to the dustbin
of my memory.
Not so fast.
There’s no
amour
in this love
game:
vanity fair
stare-down
shakedown
take-down
of all that
makes
good sense.
I would rather
taunt the
lion,
prod the
cobra,
clasp a
viper to my breast
and take what comes.
Do anything but
lose.
But though I
make of this
a war,
jihad,
an epic
fight,
it really is
quite simple:
turn around
and walk away.
So easy that
it’s hard.
No matter
that I play to win
in our little hate
game,
by craving
victory
(your love)
(your love)
2 comments:
The intensity of a love/hate relationship is much the same. I have found that a loving doe can so easily turn into an angry lion or even a venomous snake...not recently though, thank heavens.
November 22, 2014 at 10:18 PMLove never comes on the wings of one-ups-manship.
November 24, 2014 at 10:19 AMPost a Comment