Éτερος Εγώ
The search for the other me,
A literature of longing,
Eteros ego in thee —
You, my 284, and I, your 220.
It may be a search in vain,
A search in vanity, but
What is life without it?
It’s Cinnabons in Sea-Tac,
Seashores slick with spills,
Wasted weekdays tube-watching.
Meanwhile, someone is sweating
In a barricaded basement
Banging out the chords to
Life-changing lyrics that
I’m yearning to yell
At the top of my register
Telling the world what
Matters to me most.
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