I've become very fond of my no's,
and the ways in which the
wind does not go.

Lend me your question
and I'll lend you my no,
after my season upon
season of insatiable yes.

I cozy up next to my no
like the cold to a stove,
we are a perfect match,
her and I and we dance
the tango at midnight.

My no is starting to have
a mind of her own,
enlarged ego and a
questionable claim
to a no man's throne,
her master plan
to repurpose my
night away from the
masses and throngs
who never seem to
know which way to go.

I "no" my way into secluded gardens,
water sheds and cemeteries,  
preferably alone, where my no's
like to stampede over the paths,
forging her own.

I've made friends with my "no's",
so much so I dont know
which way to go without her.
The road to yes is paved
with a thousand good no's
is what she subtly whipers to me
as I gaze over to you,
and your question starting to
drip into our current affair.

What better sound shall
pour from my lips than
the steady cadence of
my self-assured no?