lately i have begun to wonder
whether two poets may fall in love.
do they live in the afterthought,
or what the moment’s made of?


lately i have begun to ponder
how two poets could co-exist.
do their worlds blur together,
or prefer not to mix?

how could they possibly
take everything in stride?
knowing that every silky word
was a well thought of line?

how could they stand it
being someone’s muse?
isn’t it intimidating enough
walking in your own shoes?

now, excuse me if
i’m coming off strong.
its just, i loved a poet once
and we fit together all wrong.