The Dual
In singular, in blissful ignorance,
I happily existed in advance
of tasting blithely an ambiguous kiss.
My dear singularity, intact
complacent wholesomeness, what have they done:
a sweet saliva, a Chrysostom tongue,
the lips, a bit thin lips, to be exact,
a tricky smile, a quick eye at the clock
and a continuation of the talk
like nothing happened, chilly and abstract.
Split into two, bereft of unity,
alas, I have no more immunity
for dual... Truly, ignorance is bliss.
Once I’ve invented this form: aab, cddceec, ffb. I don’t know how to call it. Kurtistani?)
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