Among the very many lessons
that are left to learn,
The one that I keep failing,
ever so willingly,
Is how to love you in moderation.
Just as a canoe in the clutch
of a tempestuous sea
is no more at fault
than this rabid notion,
I wouldn’t know how to judge
Or even where to begin
so that loving is just enough,
leaving no room for misgiving,
but never becomes too much,
When selfishness is my only sin.
It’s an impasse, to be sure.
A minute or an hour will never do.
I’d rather eschew a fitful allure,
If I can not possess all of you.
And if prudence frames your contour,
Then my madness is your cue,
Take your peace & leave the play
but I’m a gambler through and through.
Writing clandestine stories like cliché,
where all can get the gist but it’s for you I leave the clue.