Genetic Coding

She’s made of passion,
She’s made of fear
She’s made of broken things held dear

She’s a song left half sung,
Beside blue seas
She’s the many half faces
Of the many ‘you’s, ‘me’s
She’s the telephone chat
We never quite finished
She’s the empty glass
And the refill in it
She’s the books of poetry
Inscribed, exchanged
She’s the music copied
The moods arranged

She’s the misunderstanding that got resolved
She’s that puzzle called us. The one we solved.

7th October 2008