LIBERATION, MY ASS...
Such sweet relief. My phone rings—odd enough
Here where the signal's too weak for the walls—
I leap to go outside where I can speak—
And it's my lover: sweet now, calm and kind.
I stammer my apologies—it's tough,
A flood of pent-up "sorry"—and he drawls,
"Apology accepted." I go weak
In knees and heart; my joy will strike me blind.
So this is liberation! Call my bluff—
I can't go back, I wouldn't have the balls—
But once again I'm bound, dependent—bleak
The thought, but worse I now can leave behind:
That it was not a single love I'd failed,
But that my flaws would see all love derailed.
C
The verse is good, but it's the title that makes it special.
ReplyDeleteTG:
ReplyDeleteSo glad I can still please you.
I do worry about the people who have had the sonnets up to HERE, you know...
It's just what happens to two leather people in love, I guess.
T@C