c u r i o u s o f i

This is not easy for me to say. That even within the busiest souls, two ties may begin to fray. You see, us two, are quite alike, said a tinkling voice in her ear You and Me, We both are one. We both are but a deer.   Doe-eyed and graceful, in essence and life We prod soft footsteps, against hardness and strife Timid and thoughtful, we appear quite clear Yet beneath our adherence, rumbles ruckus and fear “You are my Chance,” speak forgotten whispers of the night. Hand in hand, we steal; steal the moon’s loom and light “And that’s just it,” says our story’s arc, “Two people should not steal. Should not be each other’s dark.” Once more, here is a token, the passing by of lips. A remembrance of our language. With knowing, your head dips. The show was worthwhile, What great curtains we put on! But love… it’s time to lower, Our magical baton. And so, my forgotten, this is what I want you to hear: This does not mean I won’t remember. My Chance. My Dear.