All these years
at arm's length—
I wish I could say
we're still on
the same page,
but the truth is
less sonorous (yet
more rigorous)
than that: in fact,
we aren't just
light years, but
parsecs apart.
But ever since
the day when we first
became entangled,
I can still sense
the spin of my
stablest particles
all cartwheeling off
to the rhythm
of your heart.
In this whole vast
and radiant
theater of rapport,
I should never again
want to perform
with you on stage,
but my guess is
we'll always be
two distant spectators
yawning concurrently
at the very
same ballet.
