the problem, as it would seem to me comes,

the problem, as it would seem to me comes
when this bi-curious nature binds true,
but I pick one or the other; and lose—
as though I could choose between, my love, you!
then this thought, as it again comes to me—
my anchor!—I see things in two’s, shinning:
not her; not him—but us, with mystery
and misadventure time expires, inspiring—;
for true in you is every thing of worth,
my love, glorious fruition, at last!—
o how I wish to sing as sun to earth
with shining honor of following vast;

oceans of motions and notions you called
“emotions” when you knew they could be stalled—

but he is another case to be had—
that of the third party, honest, observing
these states: sad, mad, and glad through good and bad
innocent of the affairs of learning;
he just goes, in a sense, or, he isn’t,
straight, forward, she, well-spread, appeasing—
see how without time my mind you wouldn’t—
“never-resting” and within you, nesting—
and beating, heating, true, turning the air,
your eyes’ skies; so up high, sight’s might pure
when he is true and she to him relies—
like a double-helix, building, life flies!

so now that they move in sweet succession—
success is but won with one profession:

the relative point, that you are subject,
yourself, completely to the ebb and flow;
nature swims in colors born—each object
with flight paths—pure patterns perfected glow,
chasing the light that all so close follow,
in loops, in love, enlightened from above,
and so, honored, each in each share borrow
of their claim, their aim, for mutual love.
that one could be out-shined, let’s each remind
of the joy that comes at one’s own expense,
and true, else, false, combined, to all mankind:
hence, we bide by our time and build suspense—

so as to give the heart a chance to cool;
none without leader will know well the fool.

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