Lovers

Lovers quarrel.

Lovers fight.

Lovers snarl.

Lovers like....different things mixed pain with pleasure.

Torn clothes adorn rooms but the wounds don't get better.

Look at this bed soaked with different oils.

Mixture of body heat brings their blood to a boil.

Love unpredictable yet it feel rehearsed.

Chicken or the egg debate which came first.

Neither will admit due to the constant power struggle.

Judgment placed on shape so there's jeers for lack of muscle.

She looks at him after that "made up" for the last time.

She's disoriented wondering, "Is this his house or mine?"

She puts on her shoes in his presence for the last time, sure of their fit.

She said, "I don't know what's worse, you telling me you love me & not meaning it, or you telling it to me & I believed it."

Lovers.

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- Rockwell