, , , , ,

You and I could be
one of those two things
that go well together
like a Balenciaga dress with Ferragamo espadrilles
like sausage rigatoni and chilled vin rouge
like reading “Empress of the Splendid Season”
while Alicia Keys breaks down
“Empire State of Mind” on the piano

because you and I
we make sense, see
I can listen to you all night
and you can read me all day, or
we can just sit together in silence
and make bets as to
how much brilliance we can produce
in twenty-four hours
out of the sparks flying between us
or embark on such experiments as verifying
if there is enough electricity in our kisses
to move things around telepathically