Your tactics are
unrespectable like your son. Your
ascetic self is compelling
but not me. You

are not always right.
I am not always wrong.

Your folly is my risk, your prudence,
my jailer. Were you a housemate
I'd have shifted.

Scylla.
You refer to life as a
dangerous sea
but your top incisor,
bottom molar,
ceaselessly gnashing
are no haven.

Charybdis.
wish we could
pass safely in the night
but that inevitable

collision

love is not a blindfold