THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE

Love Shouldn’t Feel Like This

Then perhaps this isn’t really love

Photo by Vince Fleming on Unsplash

You call
I come running
“How high, this time?” my never-answered plea;
Like a frog from the embalming jar,
Long dead, eviscerated,
Galvanized,
Jolted by the faintest whiff of hope
Legs kicking in simulated life,
Ever striving to grasp the brass ring of your approval;