she was an
ailurophile
he was a
cynophilist
now,
how come
she likes him?
and
he likes her?
when both
can only offer
the opposites
of the other.

how did they
find such
unraveled red
knots?
when they were
too twisted,
too unread.

how were they
able to say
that they liked
each other's
symphony
with wafture
of those warm hands
reaching for such
woebegone faces
with little traces
of summery
and misery.

and finally
how can she
and he
stay with each
other's plea
in a world
full of
uncertainties?

if they could,
and would,
they are pyrrichs.