her golden ratio


has a strange effect.
its soft glow often paints
faces, changes intent
casts shadows over better minds,
bloodletting until they find their real desires.

“we’re tethered, you and i”
they’re caught in a dance of disengagement,
lost in a language only they understand.
words changing, shifting
“i never expected this”
but of course he didn’t,
they’re both here without presumption
or pretense

now she’s dancing, casting shadows upon some celestial beach
while he watches on
carefully, quietly capturing
her angles and asymmetry.
embodying Fibonacci’s spirals,
she collapses galaxies

the universe unravels at her feet


(new york, new york)




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About Eric Skelton