ME & YOU

ME AND YOU

i believe there is a literal knitting of the soul
a certain siamese-twinning, where all
the blood circulates and retrieves the burnt-up passions
and all of childhood's trash, into some potent stew
of me and you

so
that's why it hurts, as you wheel, and hack
at the tissue where we meet, unsurgically
slashing the tiny fingers of nerves,
long-since woven together:
        immediate physical separation;
        instant decimation, of one million dreams;
        gut-wrench reversal and expectoration;
        this world, is now, upside down

and still i lie and glare at the creamy moon,
six months of sobriety (love detoxification)
under my belt, and sighing,
"no
i don't want to love you, anymore".