Unknowable Orbit: Poems
Poem of unknowing
At first, I knew you better than anyone best. You were me and then you were you but I was me and we were the only two.
Then you became you outside of me and I didn’t know you. We looked at each other—like two space aliens of different origins. You scared me. Maybe I scared you. We knew we needed each other but couldn’t figure out how to get along.
Then, for a while, I knew you best once again. I was yours and you were mine. We had a rhythm. I was the funniest and you were the wisest. This went on for longer than all the other times before. It was nice.
Now once again you are you. I don’t know who I am. I think you know who you are, though, but I don’t know who you are. You are moving farther away from me which I think is the idea. I didn’t think this soon. Your orbit is different now.
I want you to be you, but I want to know you in a way that no one else does but I think only you know you that way. I really didn’t expect that so soon. I know I said that already. It deserves to be said twice.
I’m still the funniest and you are still the wisest. The difference is you care about what everyone else is now.
I read once that as planetary systems age and young planets drift to their stars, the planet’s orbits become unstable, and often they collide. I hope this is true.

Bunnies
When bunnies stand up they look funny
What a great treat to see them lift up from their seat
Suburbs

Feature image “Polystyrene Planets” by David Menidrey on Unsplash