Nothing is the better

When perfect isn’t perfect,

and enough is just too late

wondering if settling is up

or if true love’s off this plate.

When passions curse the aged together

and together feels like ease,

nothing simple is ever safe,

it just feels like another disease.

A cancer to the lungs, a smoking cough

to set it off

everything is just so right

but its all simmering with no hot.

And when you look at all you wanted

you see his face

you wonder if this wonder-lust

is just a wonder-safe.

Something lacking melody but imbued with

simple chants

that rhyme you with their marigolds

and stick you with their flats.

There never seems to be a charge to push you to your end

a crisis never reached only seldom-ly  in bed.

When touch can kiss the skin send ice right through its core

a trap is set through windows pouring out

Romances door.

And every rhyme you’ve ever felt is cold to hearts own game

because romance has flattened out

it needs another refrain.

For when it reaches climax you seem to come redone

and find yourself so simple,

so easy

so much in love.

But love would rather swelter where you sit in this pot

it’d rather reach you to a boil

while you bubble in your spot.

And while you sit their soaking up

all marry rhymes and shelters

passion dies, romance it flies and nothing is the better

(March 12 2012)

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