I do not wish to love

Come, bind me to the mast of thrilling hope, 

Where I may hear this Siren ply her arts 

            In sweet, seductive tones. 

Yet, if you love me, loose no chaffing rope, 

Her song is pitched to snare unwary hearts— 

            And feast upon my bones. 

 

I do not wish to love—nor chance the slope 

Of unimagined shores, sans stars, sans charts. 

            Thus you must lash me fast, 

And jeer in bees-waxed silence as I grope 

In mimicry of love—and all her parts. 

            Come, bind me to the mast! 

 

[Felix Dennis {1947-2014}, “'Bind Me to the Mast!' (The Plea Of One Who Fears To Love)" from Love, of a Kind]