Each Morning

A poem about love and what Kurt Vonnegut called “The Nation of Two”


Each morning they awaken,

Together in their separate worlds,

Their love, a warm sun, in a shared solar system.

As fingers curl into each other,

It is just like the olden days,

When the Moon was part of the Earth.

Floating free, the mutual pull of their gravities

Is both teasing and remakes the gorgeous selfness

Of being together and apart, at the same time.

Even as you hold me, I know you hold me only in trust;

I have never said I am yours, because we are ours.

There are twenty toes on this four-legged beast called Love.

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