It is not love I run from
But its modern flourishes
The flashy prologues
The elaborate dances
The push-and-pull
Until some compromise
Can be visited upon
Two weary-lives
Who then settle into
An uneasy truce
They dare to call a relationship
It is a buzzword age;
A litigious one;
But mention pre-nuptials to me
And I will recoil
From you as I would
A roach or some other
Creepy crawly thing
For a contract isn’t love
It is another way for
Petty, frightened hearts
To try and control each other’s lives
To tamp all passion down
Into clauses and amendments
In laser-papered ink
I am either yours
Or I am not
And if it is important to you
That you get half my money
Before we’re even one
Then I would suggest
You rob me at gunpoint instead
I am not an option
To be renewed;
A commitment with a buy-out;
A promise to provide
Services for a fee
If that is what you seek
And call it love
I have an idea:
Bring your lawyer
To bed with us
He or she can sleep between us
And charge contingencies
$100 per hour, plus expenses
To hear me snore
On my side of the bed
While you wonder what
The hell went wrong
On yours
