Anchor

Who am I?
I am the one who _ you.
Who are you?
You are the one who _ me.

Thus fully defined, we exist,
And as if not quite satisfied, insist
On tirelessly inventing a medley of identities,
Day after day,
So that unfailingly each night
We return to the HQ
All mixed up and confused,

Until, finally undressed,
And the curious deeds of the day
Carefully shelved away,
You _ me
And I _ you.

Dead Plant

Her plant died the other day.

She said it was not from a lack of desire

For it to live; the situation was quite the contrary,
Yet you know how silly it is to think

That one can simply

Will away inevitability.

It made me sad,

But also angry about

Yet another unfair victory for reason,

Because if I had known,

And wanted for it to live too,

Reason stood no chance against the power of two.

And now, she will never believe me,

Citing an extrapolation argument.
Funny how that works.

Dolores

Glistening in the warm sun
That she had conjured for him alone,
A sudden, solemn drop wells up in her eye
And rushes unhindered towards a parched womb,
Rendering every game frivolous and all words empty.

Missed connection

The episode ended as abruptly as it had started
Birthing a single lone verse
That quickly acquired a thousand faces
Each less familiar than the other.

On communication

Filtered through my lakes

The projections of your thoughts

Are played out on the wall of my mind.

Trembling and heaving

I seek for consistency

With a conveniently chosen truth.