Tortured Poets

 There really is no coming back 

From times and places that change you 

From individuals who become anchors 

I was the dust 

You were the rain 

In our monsoonal dance we became mud together 

Shaped by fate, hardened by the searing desert sun 

We’ve built something that will last as long as it can 

Before the elements reclaim us 

There’s simple beauty in impermanence 

It’s how it’s supposed to be 

Time is a construct 

Less pressure on us to achieve the unachievable idea of forever status 

Two egos, surrendered, driven by fate 

We chose to dance down this winding path together 

Equine love and amber sunsets in our wake 

Ranch waters and hemp gummies 

And so on and so on 

Talismans around our necks 

The quest of two tortured poets 

Becoming less tortured 

At the unknown end of the road lies friendship 

Marfa and our past selves in the rearview 

Contentment 

Until it all begins anew