Duality always fails, and that is why
Love between two will die.
One is the most fascinating number.
It is simple and true.
Waiting for relation and the Big Bang, One can do
Whatever it wants: fake love and fake you
And fake the scenery and psychology of two,
The back and forth banter
Which breaks your heart and doesn’t matter.
The myth of virgin/whore
Is not necessary anymore—
It grew wings in lurid D.H. Lawrence novels—
But vampires proved impossible.
The vanity of love wanted to have fun.
And in the end, nobody won.
The lover, in error, crept into the wrong room.
It was dark. And fertile. It was the womb.
The lovers, holding each other, drowned in a tiny stream;
Only the child, already gigantic, was not a dream.