Singeing the heels of a quarrel,
Another renewal, with what for fuel?
Is it courage or fear that brings us
Both tears, each unable to leave the other?
Outside, the world displays its devices,
Lures and entices, promises pleasures
Earnest as arsenic and easier than rain.
Which must be why we refrain . . . It's true,
That with you I'm shriven, but remember
When we were children, and joy
Joy was a given.