Ties That Bind

by James B. Nicola

I don't much care for leather bands
with studs, or whipping pains,
nor harnesses for hearts or hands,
nor dungeons quipped with chains.

As realists renounce a wish
and trees shed leaves in fall,
I have decided to unleash
this leash once and for all.

Now don't drop by to say good-bye.
You'll only get me hot
and—Who's that knocking at my—. Hi—!
You know I asked you NOT . . . .

For tides are tethered to the moon
and seasons to the sun
as I to rites of you. But soon—
Too late. The game's begun.

And you already hold the strap—
O do not turn away,
I'll choke to death. Come closer—slap!
I'm here, you're here, let's play.

© 2009 by James B. Nicola


About the Author

James B. Nicola has been published in a score of journals, over fifty poems so far. A stage director by profession, his book Playing the Audience won a Choice Award.


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