No Strings Attached

More poetry on a theme with a friend that I am belatedly posting. The theme this day: No strings attached.

Tied Down
Strings can lift you up
Or strings can hold you down.
I think we both remember
What you think about strings.

No string I’ve ever seen
Could span this new distance.
Given your desire for flexibility,
This must be a good thing.

This is good for me, too;
I never wanted to tie you down.
And if you feel safer this way,
Then we’re both happy.

No Puppet
Some people find safety in string.
These puppet-people who enjoy
Another giving them direction,
Holding them up.

But you don’t.
You fear the strangulation
Of a string around your neck–
To be led on a leash all your life.

The puppet believes there is
A certain freedom in these ropes.
That freedom from responsibility,
From the burden of choice.

But not you.
What others put off, you take on.
While others reach for strings,
You’ve cut your bonds loose.

I’ve Got No Strings
There are no strings on me.
I’ve told you this before.
Do you think your knots
Will be any stronger than hers?

Love’s bonds have not yet
Tempted me into submission.
So use your newest bowstrings,
To me it is flaxen thread.

Perhaps it is a weakness–
A fault in my head or heart–
But with me it’s always
No strings attached.

No Strings Attached, Huh?
I thought no string could reach this far.
Not that I was looking to escape these bonds,
But I’m amazed at your ability
To weave such a tight web.

Your puppeteering strings hold me up.
Keep me up. Late.
Later than I planned, at least.

But I enjoy these lines that connect us,
Though we are a continent apart.

Hold onto your end; I’ll hold onto mine.