The Trot

 

Believe me...

I understand the split mind; the need for impulsive action 

The need to control 

Weighted by the Temperance and submission, 

 and the Dance between the Yin energies

  and the Yang. 

At any given time, we may trot and change lead, magically against the grain, 

But in perfect telepathic step, 

  few words. 

I understand the impulse, scaled against the morale. 

I understand the audience and the eyes. 

In your eyes though, 

  none of it had mattered. 

It was relentless and magnetic and without any cognitive reason we could understand 

  accept for all the excuses we would make 

trying to deny the obvious; 

the "right in front of us". 

In the end..

  it all mattered. 

I would, for no reason at all, have you impressed upon me like a scarlet letter. 

There, I could love you. 

  It was a world, I suppose, I made. 

But you had contributed. 

I took bouts of your energy to paint, 

  and occasionally would meet you in my dreams, 

Lucky, 

To be by you (finally)... 

Always a long-waited reunion

  between each. 

I was lucky afterall. 

  I had made a world where you were my safe haven, 

Demons and all, because I believed in whatever it was between us, 

That had me absolutely, 

          Spellbound. 

Maybe still...

Maybe still...