over the Southern sky
barely missing Mars
by only by a mile or so
but he is a skillful pilot
as well as a serious contender
for my heart
Not everyone has a talent
or a gift
or a flight plan
Some of us just wrestle
with survival
endurance our only strong suit
as we faint-heartedly
fall prey to lusts of the flesh
But my pilot is cool
calm, serious and sincere
He cannot understand
my chatter
my laughter
my dismissiveness
or derisiveness
He cannot understand me
nor can he turn away
I pique his curiousity
arouse his proud restrained masculinity
steer him off his damnable itinerary
For some reason I make him think twice
when he never had to think before
We've played this game for a while now
But these are not foolish calculations
on my part to keep him from his flight
Nor do I surmise some simple bum equation
that opposites attract
but something keeps this pilot circling
with no landing strip in sight
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