sewing machines

it always happens this way
again and again and again
the cycle of friendship, love
desperation
and despise.
Endlessly turning on spokes of attraction
dancing, smiles
and eyes.
You can't stick your hand in
without a wound. Can't stop
without blood.
There must be blood.
I nurse my wounds with glee
See? See what you've done to me?
But there's nothing
You did nothing.
I hurt myself by reaching in
The wires were obvious!
A brace can't stop rotation!
It's the only out
the only option in view
I don't mean for it turn this way
I never do
But over, and over, and over
merrily we roll
Until I've broken the circle,
stopped all affection
There is no room for grey in my life!
Black!
White!
Those make sense!
Colors that ring of truth
Of decision and action

But the grey just comes.
I start with a black circle
friendship spinning in my eyes
then, without thought
grey seeps in.
Please go away.
No. I draw nearer with my words
but my heart is far from it.
Silk scarves of grey wrap me
my skin tingles with need for grey.

Don't worry. The grey always comes.
Again, and again, and
again.