I was hypnotized by the pendulum swings
of your hair at 6 a.m. as two pale hands
(in time with the clock's)
hit hard the minor keys of reverie.
And now, every time a whistle blows,
I believe I'm the woman you love.
She whispers, "Meet me in the will be that already was."
Somewhere out there is a She who wants Him
and a He who needs Her and a You Three
who, ultimately, long for No One.
There's a They without ...