BY DR. AGONSON
Eternal opposites, in mortal combat locked,
you meet, but never join. You part, never sep’rate.
Your center orbits ‘round nothing: falling spirals
emerge, your shape. What are you two, what are your names?
And what are you when one? When seen together, what?
I hold no hope to reconcile these feuding souls.
Until death overwhelms, their contest is assured.
In dreams, in sleep, I hope to see the two as one,
yet even here all my devices fail to bring
an harmony, one heart, between the bowels and head.