For her, I can be apropos;
instrumentally delicate, divided

as strands of restlessness
that curl from duets to nonets;

patterns that branch and pulse
from heartbeat to pain
to breath and back again.

I can be inventive -
re-balance myself, en pointe and mute;
entwine our destinies for a while.

My noir threads twist in shadow,
while hers unfurl in the light.