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Who said love is like money? They were right.
When you have a lot of it, you keep it out of sight.
The only time you spend a lot is when you need to get
What someone else can give you—but not quite yet.
I’m still making payments on the lovely house
That is you. A house, lovely, but quiet as a mouse.
Our two houses stand, indebted to each other.
How rich we are, in being poor for each other.
You have paid as much for me, and you, too,
Owe millions, with kisses the bank misses past due.
Love makes us poor, swells our debt
For a dry floor, a bed that’s wet.
Love, to be love, must be spent,
A kiss coming by a poem sent.
My mortgage is by your mortgage always due.
You must pay me love that’s always owed to you.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
