Two verticals lie down,
each to the other, a horizon,
each to the other,
alone and unaligned.
But can we not bend Time
until we touch and cross,
unafraid to overrun
the map that Nature put us on?
My altered angle runs away
from yours until, halfway
around the world, we meet again,
the map’s four corners gone,
love’s parallels concluding
at the fevered poles where
day for one is never-ending
night for its opposite.
It’s there that barefoot angels
dance to music that we cannot
hear, but try to, being human.
We are two lines, pulled
up & down the globe by Time
& Choice & Circumstance
until Eternity marries us,
and two become one.