Pair match

We are shaken like socks
In a washing machine
Started on an early morning
Of July.
I feel you, my love,
Near but thorn,
present but distracted,
But always similar.

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Control travel

I contract my muscles
Crunching over control
Of little Excel cells and tiny data points.
The scenario they picture
Is the natural reality
Or the translation of my expectations?
With a joyful papercup of Black tea in my hand
And a backpack of numbers and theories,
I travel through unseen possibilities and questions that hide treasure doors.