Dear Miss Right, Now Miss Wrong

by John Grey

The thing where
the heart is the only true eye
has been totally obliterated.

The togetherness that defines love
with relative simplicity
has faded into something
so arbitrary
it may as well not be.

But this is the world
we are left with.
a precursor to the breakup,
gearing our intelligence
to take the bold step,
get beyond the togetherness,
find, within ourselves.
the overriding symmetry
of exactly who we are.

And then of course.
that intelligence must
put a stop to itself
with the onset
of the next round
of spectacularly unbound visions.

I know the routine.
It's like staring through a window—
at absolute heaven
occupied only by
the multi-level loveliness
of another woman.

Love—
it is all exits, it is all entrances,
and I project myself wholeheartedly
into these relationships
just so I can ultimately recoil from them.
There's no end in sight.
It's the revolution of the planet
within the infinity of the universe.