YOUR STORY
the moment I stepped into
your boudoir, your bower
your magical
room
beyond all rooms
down otherside the main road
way
below the University
due South
of the Mountain
I realized our story
might be wonderful
but we
do not share
the same fairy tale
are of
misplaced and
out of key archetype
as genre goes
along that spectrum at
opposite ends
and yet for an instant that
branching moment of
entanglemen
of which the great
tale of
quantum tells
we looked at each other giddy
with the spectre
of possibility
and yet
not with the power to
rewrite, retell
do that zany, sexy Zarathustra thing
of breaking moulds
redefining all that hitherto
we were
and believed
about ourselves
poems 2 die for 