On and off and on again
we play our foolish games
will they won't they, if and maybe
hiding in our shame.
Reaching blindly out to you
fingers through the aching dark
feeling failing for the footholds
leading up and t'ward your heart.
But only when you will it so
only when you're in that zone for
other times you barely show
retention of our ebb and flow.
As if ashamed, you are of me
hoping others never see.