When love, even lust, turns perfunctory,

becoming a rote/route to trek at night

…..or squelch in lone moments of secrecy,

·

a precious trait slowly turns dastardly.

We refuse to see our cascading plight

when love, even lust, turns perfunctory.

·

What is this thing; a ruse to avoid briefly

the pain of refusal’s possible bite;

to squelch a lone moment of secrecy?

·

And how can we grasp hope and change, be freed?

Can logic offer words, to gain insight

when love, even lust, turns perfunctory

·

and we lament the loss so bitterly,

when senses dulled, only channeled for heights,

are squelched in lone moments of secrecy.

·

Behind blind eyes, staring, the heart could see

and feel the will falter, unsure, in fright

when love, even lust, turned perfunctory;

was squelched in lone moments of secrecy.