What difference does it make, the differences in our worlds?
Lean into me and how different I am to you. Do not leave me
If I become my bad days. Do not stoke fire that may swallow
Or not swallow my gifts, be it, if they were addressed in delay.
Know that, unlike my stumbling self, my words and my gifts
Are pious; know only, they, of righteousness that strikes gentle,
Two fingers of yours by two fingers of mine. Two eyes of yours
Made teary and squinting by two eyes of mine. You who knew of
Scales balances me, even before you were born into the earth, to town
And tower and gate and guard the future as does it our pink past lives.
Truman, I seem to worry so much if you have already forgotten
My face, or the sound I make when your face is the face I see, when
Your mouth is the mouth that corners mine. The most strategic, merry
Move as of right now is that you grow between your shoulders: strength;
That you develop within yourself: calm. Be calmed, for I will sacrifice all
Time in pursuit of mounting indifferences, mounting eyes, and of mouths,
Until we murder both plainly and perfectly the corners advanced, corners
Desired. When I gift to you my true nature, grieve with me, but do be still,
Be balanced, be pious, be not so different. Two halves of yours and two
Halves of mine, plain and perfect, as the jurisprudence’s legs combined.