a perfidious lover

And here I am
with my back to the district
romanticizing this commotion;
the fettered pace of
push and pull.

I have remembered this place
once before,
back to a time when my commitments
were frail in the persuasion of peril,
and my menaces
were a tailor-made home.

Perhaps, I am different now –

Less bones, archaic desire
structured around etched tombstones;
but, I think I am losing myself again
or reacquainting
with the paler proxy.

I ask myself, what will it take?

The further I bind, the more perfidious I feel.

You look at me with friendly apathy
and say,

Your faults won’t earn you a big love.