The Relational Go-around

Ironically

I go away from my self

by being my identity

then I am a trench coat

of stills performing

eventually to trade

some of my pics for yours

and we seem to say

we are relating.

Look,

we both have our scripts

on clear overlays.

Here

let’s hold ours up together

to the light and see

what common lines run true,

themes either of us could say

and serve the other’s story.

Hmmmmm.

Seeing that we have a lot

in common to say and share.

Now we can come from

more open places

and presume this

to be as our comfort zone,

feeling safe

in each other’s presence.

Is this secretly as a haven

for the other

and yet

personally privately enjoyed?

We agree to unwrap us

and cover all the bases.

We want to experience

through each other

all we’ve ever heard

that human’s do

and then some.

There is no

‘benefit of the doubt’ here.

This is ‘the real thing’ conviction,

we’ve separately

always been waiting for.

I too am so appreciative

now that we have met.

It almost doesn’t really matter

what we mutually do.

Time passes anew

and wondrous ways

seem to flow.

Our private scripts

are somewhat set aside

for lighter resources

of exploration and display.

Neither speaks of comparisons

or past disappointments.

Life seems affirmed

and opens towards inclusion.

Busy replaces barren.

Upbeat dismisses bleak or bored.

It is hard to know

private pains first hand for now.

Guarded subtle permissions

lead each of us to relax.

Long spans of time

effortlessly pass

without deadpan self-reflections

staring back.

We could have been

high school sweethearts

from then.

The distortions feel thorough

and complete.

Here we are,

fully right where we wanted to be.

Preoccupied with our lives

as together.

Filling days

with cherished moments

and apparently years

with memories in passing.

Seamlessly for me,

my identity reappears

as a haunt from then.

Our trench coats and scripts

have modified but remain.

Common lines are common grounds

for say arguments to be staged.

Themes are reluctantly served

and our selves absorbed.

We are the subtle acts

of a private ‘dog and pony show’

yet we recover

with appreciation and relief.

Now it clearly doesn’t matter

what we do.

We are ‘at it’

and ‘on it’

with each other all the time.

We are ‘primaries’

and ‘significants’

in each other’s act.

We are deployed by projection

as lessons to learn.

We are engaged

well beyond each other’s call.

Paradoxes and sarcasms

are kindly entitlements to say.

Something else has become

the driver of this ‘us’,

but nothing slows us down.

For the ride has swerves

and hills and long stretches

and my original ticket stub

is not readily in hand.

Yet I remember as you do

our time of purchase.

We are momentum

more apparently

than we are trust.

I’m guessing

we are having a life together

by peaking out

through temporal views.

In times like these,

I see in your eyes

our passing.

We definitely are

of the same questions,

having edited

our separate scripts accordingly.

We are not in character

quite the same as before.

Whatever was behind all of this,

has come half circle,

way more to the front.

Originally we either guessed

at our connection

or we’ve now played ourselves

into deeper storylines.

For my life is spoken

with your alphabet

and your words are now

my thesaurus in response.

We are a staged hum melody

from a Broadway show

in hopes

that we are not captive

audience bound

by the loss of one of us,

for the other

to be left in final applause.

But then

with what has become of us . . .

if essentially true,

we will still surely

sense a promptedness of being

for the carry on.