One was a religion, the other more of a movement.
One stood basking in the midday sun, and the other cast his shade in the harvest moon.
My insomnia was a metronome counting the beats of a jazz tune. I’d lay awake at night conflicted, longing to find harmony.
One was a church choir, and the other a rock and roll band.
Should I get down on my knees to pray or get up and dance?
One lover was a clock, marking the moments in my heart.
The other was a radio, beating the drum in my soul.
One charted his course in the sea, the captain of his ship.
One embraced nature outright, floating down the river on his back.
Each alluring in his order and chaos, both unique works of art.
Choosing was like picking between chocolate and wine.
Paralyzed betwixt them, my stomach rumbled, my mouth watered…
…but my hands were empty.
