for O'Hearn

The shapes I assume
are compromised by his contours.

Each change of position
threatens to drag him with me.

If I embrace him,
my arm forget their mission.

If I remain apart,
I check if he's still there

We all need room
to strike a silly pose.

But pose become poetry
when wandering lines are coupled.

Sometimes I wonder why I sleep with
that damned cat!

But I tell myself
I'm in training to be a lover.