Romantic Comedy

 
 
 
Without trust all we have is lust —
the band orchestrates our game of romance.
Mustered soldiers arranged
for molding like clay.
Courtly conduct contours our stance.
Our repertoire,
notes for emoting, who says what
to whom;
how long to tarry;
which sort to marry,
which but for sport,
what role to assume.
 
Silhouettes, shadow cotillion,
ribbons fixed to a hidden core.
Ships a’sailing, tattles taleing
who could ask for more?
Take a chance?
Act out a fantasy.
Sing silliness; pray to the sky.
Any comfort is allowed, from compost to cloud,
excepting expecting to die.
 
Serenade a score of magnificent splendor.
I’ll wear it like mink to cover arrears.
Show me in love you’re the big spender.
Drink in my laughter; suck the blood
from my tears.
.
.
.
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