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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
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