thoughtlessly leaning away from responsibility I picture her
lying uncovered in the backroom guest bed
thoughtfully finding a way to tell him it's not a chicken thing
yet across the divide the mirror shows the strain
of an odyssey waiting for fulfillment
the dream that lingered under resignation
but today I mailed love cards to the two who came first
happy in a different place by the fate of their cause
content in my hurrah for finding the truth
now is the only reality because it is pure
an imagination fractal of sumptuous beauty
powered by pulsating bursts of smothering clutches
linked at the thrusts of her handiwork
deep in her being
like the script she memorized
before he appeared
and now goes there with her
by the passport of love