We
are like Pisces Fish—
Forever
tied together
Swimming
in opposition.
We
are wearers of Seven League Boots—
Only
steps apart, yet each stride
Distances
us, like thunder lags behind lightning;
Matched
though never concurrent, we are
Doomed
to be a broken pair,
A
binding curse from lifetimes past.
I
long to cut the cord that connects us
And
dive beneath the thundering waves,
See
my boots sink to the bottom of the sea,
Become
lost in the abyssal silence of self.
Then
no matter where you swam
Or
where your boots took you, no matter
Your
lightning reflexes or how entangled we are
In
the karmic net of this life—I could escape—
And
be my own self again, whole and untethered
