Both Ways

Torn between two polar lovers

One ice the other fire

But neither worse nor weaker

Both sharp as the point of a briar

And there’re days I think I’ve figured it out

And days when I hate it all

I fear some day I’ll have to choose

And make the final call

I sit cross-legged and hungry

Somewhere between XX and XY

And I think of the choices before me

Whilst staring up at the sky.