Restraint

Self-restraint and I,

we aren't exactly allies...

We tend to pace angrily

in opposite corners of a vast ballroom,

each aware of the other

and a possible symbiosis that should exist between us--

who the parasite,

who the host?

If I advance,

self-restraint retreats;

if that holy asshole approaches 
I writhe in agony,

like a demon splashed with blessed water.

Sometimes,

I dance so close to my nemesis

that our cheeks almost touch,

our steps so synchronized

that we are almost one body.

And 

there are times

            when I feel ripples of self-restraint roll across my skin,

like when I manage to keep myself from

going to you,

dozens of small times a day;

as I manage to not

reach out

to touch your face 

while we chat about the weather 

or the athletic achievements of millionaires.

My arch-enemy crawls across my landscape

slicing into me with the assertion of his-way-not-mine,

not my greedy, devouring, lust-filled way,

I lose, I lose, I lose

                               to my foe,

as I refrain

from dragging you from your pedestal

from holding your face in my hands

from pulling you with me into a vortex of skin and panting...

My adversary defeats me

and I smile,

sigh with relief

and gratitude

for his unwelcome presence.