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Prosody and me got back together recently.

We broke up a while ago.


We had something prismatic and it got mighty

Painful at times – a perfect unison of sweet nectar and muddled ripe fruit.


Well, we never quite broke things off

But kept a kind of friends with benefits thing with no community property:


She got to keep her devastating line breaks

And I got to keep a sinewy vocabulary and spidery assonance.


It was all fair and amicable but then I broke things off:

Cold feet/Warm pericardium, I guess – my heart was in it but I wasn’t.


But she’s my perfect mate, my soul’s mate –

Almost too good to be true.


So I’m back again for another go at redemption

To settle down these wild oats left –


In a chiaroscurist tango of theme and variations:

Coming and going, fight and flight and the recto-verso of golden currency.