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