not quite two-timing

of two pretty boys sitting on
a battered carburettor in a junkyard,
holding hands, exchanging kisses,
counting and naming the stars
which will one day mature into abstract supernovas
like their chemistry.
i found love amidst scrap metal and shrapnel.

but she was so beautiful
with a halo on her auburn hair,
a trick of the light, optical illusion as she yelled
"you've a quagmire for a brain!"
i wondered if i had marsh gas billowing out of my ears
and she fell into my arms in laughing exasperation,
Titania to the Fool; Beauty to the Beast.

he's so pretty, she's so beautiful,
sacred relationships untouchable.
my two parallel worlds that never meet
and the costume-jewelled key around my neck;
i can't keep this bliss a secret,
so i'll carve my double joy, three names in a tree
with cupid's arrows running through
my twin hearts that bleed euphoria
and forget to beat hummingbird's wings.

-kismet. 14th January 2004.

author's note: don't ask.