i live my life as a series of moments
strung together as a spiders web
yours is a mass of accomplishments
thrown into a suitcase, shoved under a bed
in emulsions a critical factor is heat
to bind unlike substances for a period of time
cold calculations and even colder feet
lead to the disintegration of a futile design
so the heat dies away as it eventually does
and we pass each other, strangers on the street
your shadowy sweetness lingers only because
you worked your way into me firm and complete
but the moment you withdrew in a snakelike deft
is precisely the moment i got up and left