Tuesday, April 3, 2012

The Idiot's Belt

A bond that's born with a kiss, is undone with words.
Simple as unbuckling your belt.
we are not married (well, to each other),
not bound, how you love that word, you harped on it
on more than one occasion, as if I cared.
you figured it gave you a right
to hurt, hide, return, repeat, repeat, repeat.
that's what husbands do, you know, they have that right, lovers don't.
There is more to a bond than a deed or a ring or a rope.
Promise is a promise broken
and you made some pretty big ones in your day
about nobility, about ropes and games of love.
I don't remember making any, except the secret which I keep.
I make what I could make happen
pretty special. A concept lost on you, I know.
I'd never marry an idiot.
Bad men are good for one thing only.
these days I wouldn't even kiss you.
There is nothing in it for me.

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