&

You use ‘&’

instead of ‘and.’

I thought you were trying

to be ornate or cummingsesque.

Now I believe

it’s because ‘and’

is too similar to ‘end’

& I know how

you hate goodbyes.

 

‘&’ serves as

a conjunctive

joining two words

that belong together.

Peas & carrots.

Bite & burn.

War & peace.

Even if they’re opposites,

‘&’ interconnects them,

as though ‘&’

represents

andinaway resembles

the way limbs intertwine

after a couple of drinks,

piles of cigarette ashes,

innuendoflirtations;

limbs become ‘&.’

 

There’s a ‘however’

in this explanation, some where.

Nomatter how ‘&’ these words get,

they forever remain separate, remote.

Neither can figure out why

they’re sofarapart

despite longnights of

arms & legs intertwined.

 

Peas wonders why carrots

keeps edging away.

Bite wonders why burn

won’t kiss her.

War wonders why Peace

won’t stay the night.

Per haps be cause

these words will never be ‘nevertheless’

will neverbe ‘sunset.’

willneverbe ‘sweethearts.’

 

Their know  ledge

of temp  oral, flee  ting

pass  ions leave them

dis  con  sol  ate.

Nomatterhow awe struck

and impasse  ioned

they be come witheachother

theyknow brow  beaten,

theyknow heart  break,

theyknow after shocks,

& they under stand thechanceof

another fare  well,

an  other solong,

goodbye,

the &.