It is a classic quandary
right or wrong
Those who say that neither exist
are only fooling themselves
I learned young
that the wrong way brought more laughs,
more tears, and still more
temptation
Endless nights I have
contemplated you
endlessly I have sought you,
begged you to reappear
How many people can say
they are electrified
when you are near
How many ways have I devilishly
devised my attack
my plans grow ever bolder
I've crossed off pencil with pen,
and pen with my blood
Where will this disaster end?
I hope to never see that day
your eyes grow bigger,
your lips fuller
your excitement more spasmodic
with each imagining
We are perfect this way,
wrapped in blissful misery
suffocating in our cellophane
acknowledging each other
like the most polite of strangers.
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