Asymmetrical
Indeed,
Though we are
not perfectly
symmetrical
We still pair together
like aces high, a deck
of perfect elevens and ones
of a kind
Bookends on Babel's spiraling shelf
Waltzing together in Mandelbrot's ballroom
While others may be content to foxtrot through the
Revolving Doors on floor one
(or read tabloids in the dingy hotel lobby)
Though nobody's infalliable, you're a perfect
Achilles
(to me)
And even the phone lines that connect us are more than wires underground
They are snapped and buried marionette strings that serve to remind us of the freedom that we've found