Freedom

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First, -wait, first- I told her,

Before we may take the obligatory walk,

During which you don a yoke, and then become free,

And I don a wintry coat with tundra boots, and am forced to reflect upon my sin,

First,

I must self-destruct

Rogue 

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Does it seem sensual?
What else could cause you 
To cast off your clothes,
To peel away as if parched 
The years of you and me
Of we? On your way
To some other’s carefree closet? 
Nevertheless, there’ll not be a Day
In which I won’t want
This old coat to cling ever so tight.