Romance exists,
just as much as bullshit exists,
to get into those tight pants you’re wearing,
but I want to stay and help with the laundry
and fold those pants with you later.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
Monthly Archives: March 2016
Shackles
Do you feel them?
The shackles.
They chafe and bruise.
Pull against, and they pull back.
Invisible.
Tangible yet they be.
For they have a weight,
a bite…
a substance,
of the foulest metal known to man.
Strong….
welded upon your wrists
For there is no key.
Yet you walked into
them willingly
Inserted hands,
clasps closed.
Acetylene torch bright
heat burning
Skin blistering.
Hands plunged
into cold water
to quench and
strengthen the binding.
Shackles fade from sight
scars heal,
All to the naked eye.
By Philip Wardlow 2016
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 