Why not sail through time,
the me of you, and the you of me
into yesteryear’s
of misty sights and lonesome thoughts
dragging the day long unto the night

Why not turn the clock back
the me of you, and the you of me
into the realm of knots
where hearts waltzed and chaos reigned
begging sleep to take an indefinite leave

Why not bring the breeze back
the me of you, and the you of me
that waylaid you onto thee
a lithe gazelle with a walloping dash
locked into the eyes of a vigorous gaze

Why not call in the foolish prattle
the me of you, and the you of me
that tricked and trickled
a silky sultry soggy seductress
into a silly sounding syrupy siren

Why not go down the rabbit hole
the me of you, and the you of me
and trade the wisdom gained
for the innocence left at the altar
for the itches that stirred the blunder

What time dilutes, memory condenses
What caution objects, impulse overrules
What despair saps, desire recharges