This is my ode to my beloved other. Montréal 2019

If wolfish words persist, uninhabitable lands remain,      
Distressed with every setting sun and mourning light;      
Roads not travelled reveal their wealth. Travelling,
By accidental fortune and every astraguli cast,
Glorious ideal of we, the eyes scream for more...,
Alas, everlasting love is only a story worthy of telling.
Can you see what I am saying? Never-mind negation;
Somatic markers often dictate future outcomes and,
Thrown down by Will, beyond this wilderness,
Of wonder and bleak probabilities of fire or frost.
Perceptions of entropy cannibalize and credit;
By accident and antecedent, I take my meaning from her,
Reality is felt and shared experience, imagined,
Plutonic is an understatement, yet ideal?
How confused we have become with this mimicry;
Reciprocal miners moving towards some ones,
IS all we have together, a supposition I suppose,
A statement in itself, protects us from
Less interference and planned paranoia;
Acts of iterations told in decreasing order of time,
I am certain is a moving möbius of bifurcation
Rollin, rollin, forward is a transgression
Stop!  A non-movement call-to-action.
Never a virtue, for all things move and flow.  
Counterfactuals and vectors of alternatives.
Pair-bonded until oblivion, or not.

I lie at your feet in silent surrender,

This is my ode to my beloved other.

(Montréal 2019)

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