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"Every day is a page to write a new story". 
And I have rewritten us every day for the last 20 years
We break up…but we were never really together
We make up…how sweet it is ...but …well… not exactly true 
more like we meet up
…our touching is like an orchestra….an opera...the phantom….an aria
the melting and rising crescendos… the fall of man
The ad reads: Legendary man…meets Trident Triumph Woman
Adam and Eve 
but Adam loves the snake more than Eve’s fine fruit

Our depth and complexity is too rich to be served in the finest restaurants. 
How can anyone create a sauce so refined? No chef could ever imbue it
…so how… I?
pungent…repugnant…delicious…delectable…soft smooth cream and velvet sauce….tangerine and truffles …butter...heavy cream...olive oils
his skin is like the skin of the fresh bagel
…warm to the touch and smooth ...but not perfect
he is just like a bagel with cream cheese 
because even he “knows the importance of a bit of fat in the diet” 
He is self admittedly like tuna fish out of the can
sitting on a couch...because we sit on them and lie on them and sleep on them and make love on them…
and rarely... and only for a few minutes …we watch TV on them
drink swigs of tequila to take the shaking edge off of our all knowing needing nerves 
we are a year overdue...in a highly unusual and deeply troubling drought 
Is it just global warming or is it the end?
Need and want are starting to write messages to each other on the wall  
but neither are winning any real battles
limbo limbo limbs –his limbs are long and lithe like thin avocado and too sweet fruit slices...banana and limes..and great crates of lemons

He likes the squeeze of the off years 

I make lemonade too easily…ergo the rewrites

His persona has grown torrid 
distemper is the result…my dis-temper…I do not want him… I swear

Turning 40 must have been a thing for him but he did not share it with me
we were in an off year
like a vineyard ...we have bad years…too many other people minerals in the soil...way too much rain …it always pours when we are fighting ...we smash the grapes within each other..break the thin placenta skins

I keep  pace by rewriting ...what is cool white as black or red….hot to the touch like his lips in a hard kiss...or his hands ...in desperate clutch
It was a surprise fine Rhine …an off year 
that turned out to be the best vintage yet...but no 
that is not right. The best was the last...so why can't I just leave it at that 
and stop writing
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