Strangling On A Sigh

In the human commerce of forbidden addiction,
Love has fangs and horns to tear:
If you love in error, fear will bite you
Chase you for miles, to it's heartsick pounding
And disdaining, hurl you to the ground

For I'm half-strangling on your sighs
But you don't notice I'm around

Human beings are the cynical predator
That wraps you tightly in miles of rules:
There is no bill of rights for lovers,
No wailing wall to advertise our need
There has never been a school

For I'm half-strangling on your sighs
But you don't notice I'm around

We'd rather live out life in isolation
Instead of dry-humping with other's minds
And we keep a tight rein on our emotion-
That sloppy drunk found pissing anywhere
So the truth never quite gets found

For I'm half-strangling on your sighs
But you don't notice I'm around.

by Patti Masterman

Comments (1)

This is one of the most beautiful poems I've ever read. I remember that when I first read it through, I didn't understand a single thing. I got to know of the background from Google immediately afterwards. I recall reading it aloud to myself on a summer evening in May- and being taransfixed afterwards. Swinburne may not have been the greatest poet of all time, but this poem sure is one among my favourites.