Russian Roulette

Is it a given?
That in every love there is one that loves more than the other?
Isn’t it a treachery?

Does it not take away from its sung validity
and value
that one’s vulnerability be perpetually more at risk in the hands of another
Than the other?
Does it free, or incarcerate?
Is it meant to heal, or to lacerate?

Are the two inseparable?

Is loving to be bruised
Is to be loved to bruise?
Which is the better?
Is there a better?
Or is it a Russian Roulette we revolve on
Build our lives on
And condemn those who slip off its noose?


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