It didn’t ought to be called love
For how can love follow
Abandonment and estrangement
To justify the inference of love
I have to back off, soften from
The black and white of leaving
That’s not easy for this engineer
Whose use of mathematical logic
Is cast in stone as right or wrong
To then walk towards maybe
Offers up a trepidation; but also
The excitement of pastures new
As I write my body feels, oozes
The energy of the release; freedom
From those past archaic notions
For how can love follow
Abandonment and estrangement
To justify the inference of love
I have to back off, soften from
The black and white of leaving
That’s not easy for this engineer
Whose use of mathematical logic
Is cast in stone as right or wrong
To then walk towards maybe
Offers up a trepidation; but also
The excitement of pastures new
As I write my body feels, oozes
The energy of the release; freedom
From those past archaic notions
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149
