”Velo”
"Better a living beggar than a buried emperor."
- Jean de La Fontaine
Marital bliss has a knack of existing only when I keep my mouth closed.
That or I’m sleeping,
out-cold enough to not hear her growled moans.
Silence is golden. Sure, if I haven’t spoken.
But the second I dare put my head up for air, I’d better beware.
She’s a wily opponent.
Already prepared for a war of words on all concerned.
To talk to her in a way she begrudges would be changing the subject.
She hates the way I play the game and say nothing;
it makes her rage and I love it.
The scales of injustice paint me as the unassailable culprit.
The odds on me winning look impossibly slim.
She’s not gonna give in.
It’s clear that she wants to hear a response
but the person that’s first to crack will appear to have lost.
I never shift from my precipice
though Kelly’s sitting just feet from my throne in a seat on her own.
For as long as she’s keeping hold of the T.V. remote,
she’s in control.
Seizing the moment, I prefer to snatch it as she turns her back.
What’s the worst that can happen, right?
Wrong.
We’re back to fighting like cat and blind dog soon as the channel I want flashes right off.
Both combatants fire shots
preferring to save their verbal grenades for return once engaged.
Words are a wayward weapon.
Only the brave and reckless would dare spit a sentence with a hair-trigger temper.
She stares with a vengeance.
I wave a white-flag in the form of my waiting right hand.
She takes it right back.
The feel and touch gentile enough to seal her trust.
With a single kiss from her rigid lips,
all is forgiven in the battlefield of love.
@
MMLP