We’ve been tossed together
like Caesar salad.
And abandoned by carnivores.

We meet in undefined places.
In the space between
waking life and dreams.

We possess an equal share
of half-lies and full-truths,
mostly unaware of the distinction.

Suitors fall
like particles of plaster
from cracks of ancient ruins.

Dusting our ego.
Corrosive in their neediness.
Creating a heavy pile of burden.

Sure-footed commonality
eludes us in this capsule.
And we don’t complain.

Instead, we romanticize
flesh passing through flesh,
and place quotations around birth and death.

© 2003 Lisa Martino