Guys

obnoxious jerks who are occasionally sweet.
They can'tunderstand
why I would rather stay home and snuggle with him
on the couchon a black, wintry night than go out
with his friends and do guythings.
They say that they will call you right back and you
don't hear fromthem for days.

A splinter in our fingers,
a dagger in our hearts,
atear on our cheeks.
or loving,
comforting?
Are they a warm blue blanketthat's tucked all around
you when you go to bed and when you wake up inthe
morning,
like a kiss
a soft caress
or a hug?

Why is it welet them lead us into their spell
almost as if it were a power they have overus,
beckoning,
like a chocolate cake to a dieter?
We let them hurtus
so we feel as though we've been beaten and battered
and then we makeup.
They forgive us for the horrible thing that we've done,
leading usback
into the blackness of their power.