We Can Write a Bad Romance

We can write a bad romance, where the kisses just don’t stick and the hugs are just not warm enough, they don’t linger long enough. They get cold when not placed where its warm enough, that is home where it’s  warm, that’s the heart, it beats so, ‘cause it’s warm, so we won’t hug it, wont hug about it or anywhere near it.

Because the kisses didn’t stick and the hugs didn’t warm and the heart didn’t get wind of it, we can write the script a little more, have his and her scent smell a bit, putrid, just a bit, and have their serenade grow old on us, have their smiles turned upside down.  Upside-down, that’s the word. Have her life turned upside down. Spew her clothes, shred his letters, boot them out, wait a minute, not so fast. Pile them in and smell her scent, just a little, not so much. Restrain yourself. Glue the letters back in place. Cry a little. Cherish the love, just a little, before it’s gone. For good. It’s going once, going twice, going thrice, now boot them out. Have the dog chew them out. Get the madman change his wardrobe. That’s the deed. See her out, kick him out, your heart is not a room, it’s actually a bungalow, self contained. The thief didn’t yet clean it all out!