Arm’s length

Your outstretched arm pulls me to you
when I have gone astray.
It’s there you hold me, at arm’s length;
it’s easier that way.

Your hushed reply, your cheeky smile,
soft whispers in my ear.
You’re armed with fun flirtation to
keep me not close but near.

You’re not alone in games of love,
for two believe I’m theirs.
Too blinded by my quick reply
to see my love is shared.

Neither unique in their cruel ways;
I practice this art too.
I’ve loved before but been ignored;
I tried and failed with you.

Their outstretched arms try pull me near;
I play them day by day.
It’s there I wait, just out of reach;
it’s easier that way.

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