I’m no widow
And I’m no adulteress
But epileptic ethereality
Makes my heart pound in an unfamiliar
Drumbeat of intrigue.
Prose never slams me against the wall,
Insulation humming with the impact of my
Shoulder blades.
The wholesome passion of
Everything
Competes against
Disjointed, intoxicating frission.
No one said this would be easy,
Except us,
Because we were once
Childhood lovers
And
Teenage infatuants.
Wandering eyes
Find dead ends at the cold intersection
Of unfamiliar reality and
Distance from you.
Spin me again
Into your pulsating foxtrot
And I will give you my soul
Always.
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