here is a pome

or a poem or whatever
you choose to call what it does
to your senses

eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and lips
and more than whatever those represent
to you, dearest reader, or so i presume

to name you
dear,

            but mean it affectionately,

for we are a pair, the two of us,
but who is the soldier, who is the leader
can you answer me,

do you dare say
little reader?

can we begin again, begin
over, begin
at the beginning

            shall we start over?

we shall pretend
we are familiar, we shall
dance and sing songs,

stumble when we drink ourselves drunk,
kiss and makeup after hardships
long long after the sun sets
over the arctic of your lamp,

            an expansive time

for kissing you, telling you
i am the one that you must remember
musk scented arms and damp
and wet under

            don't disappoint,

keep reading me
lover

or should we fight, be enemies
demons and derelicts, scum
to be squashed by each other

be
eradicated, debilitated
simply O! so simply
depised
and hated

i could hate you
if that's what you need
me for

hate you cold
with a vengeance or hot
with a fury

or tepid and lukewarm with the fiercest
indifference, painted white

            like a movie screen

but why not love
me

and
i will love
too, I will breathe

cinnamon dreams to your lungs
scale the alps, keep you

young
in the pages between my book on your nightstand,
my pages, this

poem, or whatever
it is,

just don't end me, keep reading and reading and reading
of, for, about me

and i'll write to you, write for you, write everything
and we shall have

            symmetry