I.
It is not coming together.
It started out that way, but I can see it is about spinning apart
just as much.
Fifty-fifty.
Something about the physics of it.
The physics of being equals.
II.
You're here, I'm here.
That's easy.
I hope you don't mind, but I also brought someone new:
I guess you'd call them, Who I Think You Are.
I thought you would get along, that you two should meet.
I thought to myself earlier, "People like that should meet!"
And here we are, trying it out.
III.
In a story I've heard, forbidden lovers turn into a stone or a tree,
I never remember which.
What I remember is how the prospect of turning into a stone or a tree
never seemed so fantastic
as being two in that one.