Chained

You could 

chain me 

to your belt loop, 

dragging me around, 

place to place,

just to be sure that 

I would follow.

But you don't 

have to.

Your gaze is chain enough--

thick, heavy, palpable--

your eyes pull me in,

hold me immobile,

even bid me to move

whichever way you desire.

I could say no to you,

but I won't.

So there is no reason

for chains...

unless it is

your wish

that I be

bound.

In which case,

you could tie me up

just for fun,

bend me,

shape me,

touch me,

leave me

wanting.

You could say no to me,

which you will,

just to prove

that you can.

There is little

I can do

to stop you.

There is little

that I want

to do...

besides

you.

You can be happily "chained" to a person. Or not so happily. Or...like me and Mine...you can need the other so much that when they are away you don't feel "quite right." Your souls are tied...or chained - and there's no set of bolt cutters that's going to break them apart. Seriously, even if you were separated forever, by land, sea, divorce or death...you'd still feel it. That pull. That necessity. 

It's more than love. 

It's life itself.

Indeed...the meaning of life is not 42 (yes...I'm that big of a geek). The meaning of life is connection.

And a set of chains is as good a metaphor for that as any. Because that connection is not always easy, or soft, or happy. It just is and must be.