The Thing That Wouldn't Leave

It entered me as words on a screen,
silent notes of lilting music,
and echoed through my body, bing-bing-bing.
It picked me up, it drugged me down,
I was quickly helpless against this sweet thing.

And as it rattled around in there and rearranged
the tenuous pieces of my work-a-day life,
My soul cried for just this kind of balm to soothe the scars of
My family strife.

We spoke, it and I, and to my offer that it may have found
a host less complex for the object of its desire,
It laughed, bing-bing’ed again, and mocked,
“Is that your heart I smell on fire?”

By god, it was, I said, and so I warmed to think this new friend had found a home,
And it may stay, get comfortable, unpack – move in –
There’s just one room here we must not roam.

Ah, can that be done, it asked?
Are you so sure you have the strength to resist my siren song?
Hey, it’s up to you as well as me, I said. You can stay, you do belong.

And if into that room we did intrude,
upset it would my meager world,
But guilty would I not be to accommodate
its impressive mood.

Ah, but you understand. This is desire still burning
From a prior life!

Profound, no doubt, to me,
But unimpressive to my current wife!

So make yourself at home, and if my warm affection will not rest,
I will build a fire wall between you and those against my breast.