Two of Kind

Together
we're like each others infatuation,

grounded by reason.

A decade

over the influence,

swaying all degrees of emotion

within a commercial-breaks-time.

Ground me,

flying cold in 120 degree weather,

feed me love, then guilt,

in admirable ways.

We talk in art

it's our own slang,

an understanding

with only pencils, brushes, and melodies.

(They never could).

Now try and replicate

through color who we are,

unattainable.

With precision

perfectly flawed,

We are one.