You’re the rocks on the tracks
That derail me
so I can look in ways
at things I’d never see

And you,
you clear the way
so the going is easy
as long as I stick to the path

Her (riding the metaphor);
But I need
detours and curves
and to swerve round bends
if I’m to stay intent and alert

Him (making way for her):
I would give you those
and add potholes and cracks,
but I know you’d veer
at the slightest bump
with small chance
that you’d come back

Her (fiddling with a rock in her pocket):
Funny how it never works that way for me.

Him (getting his broom ready):
Doesn’t mean it never will

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