XX - XY

Allow me to re-state:
Perhaps fate is a calculated fable,
as I'm still unable to shake your eyes,
two emerald cameras chasing each
of the lines in my weary smile.

Maybe you're a language I relent
for its lamenting verse . . .
Is my name threaded with vowels?
How else could I still blame myself?

This heart must not be small enough
to fit inside my chest. I jest -
Surely I'm just jet-lagged:
In limbo; reassembled by Possibility.
If two separate worlds can occupy mine,
then they shouldn't be allowed to intertwine.
I need two lives, I'm too tired
to figure this out.

Allow me to re-state:
xx-xy = the inability to verify
if either of us is truthfully feeling
each shivering gust of red apple warmth.

How do I even know if you still desire
to be part of the equation (invasion) ?

January 10th 2011
(c) Novalyn Grace RR