biting the hand.

I’d like to think of you
as the mastermind of some nefarious plot.

A kind of demonic puppeteer,
pulling my strings,
sending me skipping towards destruction;
A depraved clockmaker,
winding my gears,
setting me ticking towards an explosive end;
Or even simply
a snake, lying coiled in my heart,
fangs bared and ready to spring.

But, no, you are no villain.

And I?
I am only the dog that grovels at the master’s feet,
begging for scraps.

Illogic.

If I ever loved anyone
for no good reason,
it would be you.

Now, that’s not to say
that there isn’t a good reason
to love you,

Or that anyone else
would not figure out these reasons
and therefore

Never let you go.

It’s just that
the way I love you
is in no way logical.

And Lord knows
I try my best
to be logical.

And I have tried and tried
to quantify this feeling.
To categorize it.

And fit it into a nice, little,
neat package.
Something presentable.

But there are some things
that can’t be shoved into boxes
or smudged out by the passing of time.

So I guess I’ll continue
loving you
for no good reason.

And perhaps that’s not
such a bad way to love,
or be loved.

Unconditionally?