I can never fully wrap my thoughts around
The depths of our conjugal wind sea
As though you were Zeus, and I Minerva
Floating like air sailors in cloud nine,
A cheery mix of emerald and turquoise delights
Only to stare at myself and the four-eyed wonder
And find that the sky has been stoic black.
My dimunitive utterances have served you well
In play pens, planes, and nurseries of the mundane
Alchemy, history, art and proximity
Smoke, speed, savory babies of capitalism
This is the way of the wave in our times
We, you and I, exist for a lofty demonstration of
Progress in rearing
Patience and pleading
Playing with fire
Without any dinner to serve.
So this, I have yet to ask
If in the sea of this lovely little Minerva
you still would want to bask
Despite the frailty and scars
Which may have turned your fairytale into farce
I have answered your knock to my strange corner house
You have stayed, as a guest, day and night
From this day forward, we build a new empire.
