I love you, you understood,
and you in the plural, always
you, second person singular.
Often I wear street clothes,
green corduroy fig leaf.
Alone, I am without conversation,
I've thoughts that are parsed verbs.
At first sight, you were delighted,
I was your second person singular
possessive pronoun, with an S—yours.
My I's run wild trying to see the world.
I peek into your keyhole,
I see you swimming naked. Lucky water.
Your music necessary as breathing. I can’t
help it. The past is the pool you're swimming in,
the orchestra string section is playing in your bed.
It’s time for me to make a U-turn
back to you in the present, second person singular,
I will be ungrammatical all over you.
Neither of us is, we are.