For a long time
I thought
"I could never
marry a poet."
And now I am
thinking,
"but who else
could I marry?"
Poets are bound to each other.
We are a collective all our own,
nearly another species.
And there is no one else
I could marry, but a poet.
A writer, perhaps.
But a poet
would be best.
Put two poets together
and the world instantly
changes, for they
realize that they aren't
the only one who thinks
a certain way,
who watches certain things.
My poetry teacher at camp
married another poet
and while they cannot
critique each other's poetry
they are perfect for each other.
You understand the same things,
but interpret them in different
ways poetically.
I'll have to marry a poet,
and in this way I am afraid.
I've yet to meet a male poet,
a real one. One who reaches out
and claims the title.
Where are they hiding?
Because these things
in my life just are not
working,
and I am so tired,
so tired of this.
This lacking in emotional
connection, to a boy,
a guy who can complete
what Zeus cut in half.
Literally, the
other half of my heart.
Plato was right,
we're cut in half by the gods
for fear of our whole power...
but we're so wounded
while we quest.
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