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.