Poem #2

Have you ever seen the magician's trick
where he saws some/one in half?
This is what I feel when you are gone;
severed, cut in halfe, incomplete.
You are my siamese twin.
You are my alter-ego.
Only half of my heart beats
without you.
Work, work, work.
Hate responsibility, hate the daily grind,
hate the 9 to 5, hate the job.
Love love.
Love me while I love you.
The closer you get to 40 hours,
the farther you get from our bed,
our comforters,
interwoven with the finest passions.
Take the day off;
money is not as important
as intrinsic paydays.
Pleasing your boss
is not as important
as pleasing yourself.
Stay home.
Read to me in bed
while I stroke your tulip petal toes
and your unshaven legs.

by Carl A.I.

Other poems of A.I. (35)

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