rare

Did we will it possible,

Our fill of love, sans

(look ma, no hands)

Sans the perfunctory  push & shove,

Missing  dysfunctional methodology of

Two  half-formed orphans,

Half  bereft  drifters

On unsettled seas of insecurity?

We say, “We’re sans all that.”

We say, “ Isn’t it all sensational

We get along,  when

We get alone?”

It’s too rare