In the Haiku between you and I

In the Haiku between you and I

In the Haiku between you and I
You and me, there is only silence
For I followed you blindly
Without words, like a fool’s errand

And our experiences were finite
But as poets we were prophets
Taking the ordinary
To make it all-beautiful

Immersed in the variables
Of relationships, I became
My own kind of poetic analytics
Poetry defined as immediate
Identification, and you were there

A myth in my eyes of incarnations
A lost journey of mine without a home
I followed you through time like a nomad
Of a poem our lives once wrote together

So pure and profound a calling
A writer-seer’s blind spot of pleasure
Ethereal, unattainable, self-sacrificial
That’s how the poetry between us sounded

Transparent, with a red dress of infatuation
Still warm, the muse of powerful
Barefoot cravings and blue-stretched out
Mythical bed of alphabetical nipple-tested
Vowel-slurring sweet anarchy.