Baggage Reclaim
Love is a kind of madness and, as such,
can sometimes hoist its victims to strange heights.
Though love may cause a fever where it bites,
this time the troops have quelled the pending putsch.
I ask your pardon for our magic nights,
those rhymes I wrote you, crackling with emotion:
you'll overlook, I hope, my fierce devotion,
and my defending you with all my might.
I'm sorry. It will not occur again.
A broken heart brings wisdom in its wake:
I gladly drank the hemlock for your sake:
I let your prettiness, your sharp disdain
intoxicate me like your smell, your touch.
Forgive me, please, for loving you too much.
Copyright © Michael Coy | Year Posted 2017
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